ENOGRAPHER. 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


I 


-      *    «\  -       t  Ifc 


&~^      /-&^£>SL^ 


'/ 


THE 

STENOGRAPHER, 

His    Life,   Trials    and    Difficulties, 


Together  with  Many  of  the  Perplexing 

Circumstances  which  often 

confront  him. 


BT 

"CALHOUN," 
Who  has  been  through  the  "Mill." 


Also  contains  many  valuable  instruc- 
tions to  Stenographers  which  will  enable 
t  hem  to  avoid  many  difficulties  and  errors, 
i  f  carefully  perused.  We  cannot  live  our  Hfe 
over  again,  hence  let  us  profit  by  the  experi- 
ence of  others. 


"In  the  lexicon  of  youth  which  fate 
reserves  for  a  bright  manhood,  there  lsv 
no  such  word  as— fall." 


PUBLISHED  BT 

THE    STENOGRAPHIC    BOOK    COMPANY. 

St.    Louis,    Mo. 

1894. 


TO    THE 

Stenographers  of  America 


IS   THE   HOPE 

THAT  IT  MAY  PROVE  A  CONTRIBUTION   TO 

THE  LITERARY  STORK  FROM  \VHKN<   I 

THEY  DRAW  BOTH  REAL  PLEAS- 

URE    AND     DESIRED     AID, 

AMU 

THAT  BY  ITS  PERUSAL  EACH   READER 
MAY  BECOME 

A  BETTER  STENOGRA  I  '  U  K  I  :  . 
THE  AUTHOR. 


Copyrighted  1894. 


C 


PREFACE. 

It  is  not  with  a  view  of  astonishing  the  literary 
world  that  this  volume  is  published,  but  that  some- 
thing might  be  done  to  encourage  those  of  my 
profession.       Works  of  all  kinds  and  classes  have 
been  introduced,  nearly  every  profession  has  some 
work  of  its  kind,  but  thus  far  the  poor    stenog- 
«•    rapher  has  been  left  in  the  cold.      And  why  thus? 
*>    We  have  feet  that  walk  and  hearts  that  beat  and 
>•    that  have  feeling  as  well  as  any  other  class  of  indi- 
viduals. 

This  work  is  not  intended  only  to  please  the 
mind  of  the  one  who  may  casually  glance  over  its 
•5    pages,  but  those  who  may  think  their  future  pre- 
M    sents  a  gloomy  appearance  cannot  help  but  feel 
5    encouraged  after  reading  the  contents  found  in 
this  book.      We  as  a  class  of  willing  workers  are 
rapidly  reaching  the  point  where  the  world  cannot 
y   do  without  us.     The  prospects  before  the  stenog- 
«   rapher  were  never  brighter,  and  to  those  who  are 
'  but  starting  in  the  profession,  weary  not  in  the 
undertaking.     There  is  yet  a  wonderful  ladder  be- 
fore you,  many  who  now  hold  positions  of  trust 
and  honor  started  as  a  stenographer.     To  the  one 
yet  in  school  let  me  say,  labor  diligently,   work 


4484.01 


PREFACE. 

earnestly,  and  do  not  become  discouraged  because 
the  top  of  the  ladder  is  not  reached  in  a  day. 
When  you  once  become  proficient  in  your  profes- 
sion there  will  always  be  avenues  thrown  open  be- 
fore you  by  which  you  can  earn  a  good  salary. 

If  in  this  work,  the  effort  will  be  the  means  of 
assisting  those  of  the  profession  in  any  way,  the 
time  will  be  considered  as  well  invested.  There 
is  no  more  noble  calling  for  a  young  lady  than  to 
become  a  good  stenographer,  it  enables  her  to  be- 
come independent,  self  supporting  and  worthy  of 
the  admiration  of  all. 

In  this  work -it  has  been  deemed  advisable  to 
be  plain  spoken,  and  with  the  exception  of  names 
being  substituted,  there  is  no  novel  about  it,  it  is  a 
reality,  the  circumstances  actually  transpiring. 
Perhaps  in  some  places  the  brush  may  have  rubbed 
a  little  roughly,  but  some  of  the  incidents  have 
been  an  awful  reality  to  the  writer.  Stenographic 
friends,  push  forward,  seek  to  advance  your  em- 
ployers' interests,  and  they  will  not  fail  to  appre- 
ciate the  effort  and  reciprocate. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. — Scenes  of  home  life. — First  remark 
about   attending  school. — The  great  impres 
sion  made  by  the  advertising  circular. — Wear 
ing  apparel. — Prospects  not  at  all  favorable.— 
Missouri  in  the  seventies. — First  school  ever 
attended. — Quite   romantic    place. — Difficul- 
ties of  school  life. 

CHAPTER  II. — One  of  the  boys. — Having  a  touch 
of  all  diseases  in  the  category. — Difficulties 
in  writing  compositions  at  school. — Bitten  by 
poisonous  serpent. — Come  near  joining  the 
silent  majority. — First  tinge  of  affection  for 
new  arrivals  from  the  east  felt. — Country 
courtship  under  trying  circumstances. 

CHAPTER  III. — Difficulties  attending  country  life. 
—The  long  dreary  road  between  home  and 
the  place  where  Jennie  resided. — Horse  breaks 
loose. — Trouble  of  the  worst  kind. — A  lost 
horse  and  awaiting  girl. — Terror  of  breaking 
the  news  to  the  man  of  the  house. 

CHAPTER  IV. — Ambition. — Attend  school  in  neigh- 
boring village. — Sort  of  a  "tender  foot"  in 
town  life. — Visit  home. — Thrown  from  a 
horse  and  again  come  near  crossing  Jordon. — 


CONTENTS. 

Borrow  the  use  of  railroad  bicycle,  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  owner. — The  marshal 
takes  a  hand. — One  such  lesson  enough. 

CHAPTER  V. — Death  angel  enters  the  family.— 
Instead  of  astonishing  the  civilized  world  was 
forced  to  return  to  farm  life. — The  mysteries 
of  life  and  death. — The  first  real  sorrow.— 
Death  claims  sister  Nellie. — In  the  midst  of  a 
terrible  storm  her  spirit  takes  its  flight. — 
Life  seemed  different  ever  after. 

CHAPTER  VI. — Attend  school  for  the  purpose  of 
mastering  shorthand. — First  experience  at 
school. — The  professor  took  particular  pains 
to  get  the  bulk  of  my  currency  first  day.— 
Samuel  Tough  my  fellow  schoolmate. — The 
"Students'  Home." — Writing  the  shorthand 
alphabet  three  times  per  minute. — A  case  of 
try,  try  again. — He  said  go,  and  I  started. 

CHAPTER  VII. — There's  some  sunshine  in  the 
darkest  lives. — After  a  few  days,  commenced 
to  write. — Introduced  to  the  type-writer.— 
Too  much  fun,  not  enough  study. — Sam  the 
subject  of  a  practical  joke.  —Taking  care  of  a 
sick  friend. — Rustle  nights  and  mornings  for 
board. — Pride  unmercifully  crushed  at  times. 
—Turn  my  back  on  Hardstudy. 

CHAPTER  VIII. — Leave  school,  strike  Butcher- 
town,  trouble  only  now  begins,  a  regular 
tenderfoot. — Introduction  to  life  in  the  city.— 
Life  as  it  is. — Home  in  Deadville.  —  Scenes  in 
an  agriculture  school,  —  A  case  of,  first  there 


CONTENTS. 

first  served. — Nothing  strange  to  see  a  meek 
looking  chap  stove  into  a  pair  of  pants  six 
inches  too  short. — Watching  for  a  man  who 
wants  a.  good  stenographer.  —  Business  •ap- 
parently a  little  dull. — Strange  to  say  no  one 
seemed  to  want  a  competent  (?)  stenographer. 

CHAPTER  IX. — From  bad  to  worse. — Driven  to 
the  wall  and  try  the  book  business. — Thought 
the  fortune  almost  made. — Harry  did  not 
seem  to  think  much  of  the  prospects.  — A 
touch  of  homesickness. — Got  a  place  and 
could  not  hold  it. — Failure  in  the  examina- 
tion. The  only  man  that  would  listen  was  a 
one-legged  shoemaker. — Get  a  place  as  clerk 
and  cannot  master  it. — Finally  secure  a  per- 
manent position  as  stenographer. 

( 'iiAi'TKR  X. —  With  a  permanent  position  life 
moves  in  smoother  channels. — l>uy  a  type- 
writer.— Act  as  stenographer,  office  boy  and 
general  roustabout. — Social  life  a  perfect  bar- 
ren:—-A  visit  home. — See  Jennie. — Business 
grew  worse  and  worse. — Forced  to  secure  an- 
other place. --.Get  employment  in  large  pack- 
ing establishment. 

CHAPTER  XI. — Mysteries  and  miseries  of  a  mam- 
moth packing  house. — Not  many  letters  to 
write  each  day  but  long  hours. — Unpleasant 
sound  coming  from  the  dying  animals. — Take 
notes  in  all  kind  of  places  and  positions. 
Sheep  decoy.  —  Manner  of  pork  manufacture. 
—  Chased  by  a  dog.-  Neck  and  neck  race  f  -r 


CONTENTS. 

many  ties. — Working  seven  days  per  week. — 
Encounter  with  a  pickpocket. — Prospect  of 
forsaking  shorthand  altogether. — Leave  Butch - 
ertown. 

CHAPTER  XII. — The « art  to  be  abandoned. — A 
slight  promotion. — Handle  cash  and  get  into 
trouble. — Short  in  cash  account. — Transferred 
to  Gehtleburg. — Get  in  close  quarters. — Meet 
Timothy  Slocum. — Trouble  with  the  Man- 
ager.— Returned  to  Butchertown  unwillingly. 
Again  follow  shorthand  for  a  living. — Code 
messages  make  a  mistake  and  get  into  trouble. 
A  friend  killed  instantly. — Try  railroading. 

CMAPTKR  XIII. — Life  in  a  new  field. — The  real 
terrors  of  being  unable  to  read  your  notes. 
To  write  one  hundred  letters  daily. — Their 
policy  to  kill  a  new  man  on  the  start  if  pos- 
sible.— The  "boss"  apparently  always  mad.  - 
All  at  once  the  monotony  was  broken  by 
"Get  yer  book!"  spoken  quick  and  sharp.  - 
He  looked  all  the  time  as  if  he  might  chew 
stenographer,  typewriter  and  all  up. — A  case 
of  "here  a  line  and  there  a  line." — Wished 
that  a  millstone  might  have  been  tied  to  my 
neck  and  cast  into  the  deep  in  my  youth. 

CHAPTER  XIV. — Stenographer's  life  from  a  social 
standpoint. — Roaming  over  the  prairie.— Tim 
othy  gets  careless. — His  carelessness  gets  him 
into  trouble. — Cupid's  darts  get  in  their  work. 
Timothy  joins  the  benedicts. — Tennis  club 
amusements. — Walking  down  the  street  about 


CONTENTS. 

the  same  time  the  gentler  portion  of  the  race 
did.  -  An  inviting  hammock. -The  dog  chained 
and  the  old  gentleman  asleep. — None  like  Miss 
Missionary. — Competition  in  the  social  world. 
— Get  acquainted  with  "Shorty." 

CHAPTER  XV.  —  Circumstances  such,  a  healthy 
realization  follows  that  a  stenographer  is  not 
a  machine. — Meet  a  young  man  from  the  East 
and  get  the  worst  of  the  acquaintance. — Vis- 
its to  the  Missionary  mansion  become  more 
frequent. — Competition. -The  old  gentleman's 
anger  ripening  against  me.— Finally  forbids 
the  placing  of  my  tiny  feet  on  his  sod  hence- 
forth.—  All  over,  join  a  bachelor  club;  the 
embargo  lifted. — Happy  as  a  June  bug,  all 
goes  merry  as  a  marriage  bell.  —  Quarantine 
again  enforced. — A  farewell  forever. 

CHAPTER  XVI.— New  home  and  new  surround- 
ings.— Parting  with  friends  but  the  inevitable 
fate  of  a  stenographer. — Join  a  World's  Fair 
club,  win  a  medal. — Attending  the  Fair.— En- 
counter all  kinds  of  difficulties. — Life  mate- 
rially changed.  —  After  one  year  all  seems 
changed. — New  found  friends  cause  a  more 
friendly  feeling  for  the  antique  Missionary 
man. — The  Phonograph — will  it  ever  be  a  suc- 
cess?— Not  in  this  age.  —  "Take  a  letter. "- 
The  end. 


CHAPTER  I. 

SCENES    OF   HOME    LIFE. 

"Say,  Father,  I've  got  a  sort  of  a  sneaking  idea 
I  would  like  to  learn  shorthand  and  be  a  stenog- 
rapher; if  you'll  give  me  a  little  wad  of  currency 
to  use  attending  school,  I  will  try  and  make  my 
own  way  in  the  world  after  that." 

"That's  just  like  some  of  your  high-toned  ideas. 
Why  can't  you  go  to  school  and  study  some  of  the 
ordinary  branches  like  the  other  boys  did?  You 
are  always  on  the  wrong  road  and  wanting  some- 
thing you  can't  have.  We  never  more  than  get 
one  of  your  wants  satisfied  until  you  are  origina- 
ting another." 

"Yes;  but  I  have  been  reading  those  papers  the 
fellows  sent  me  from  the  school  up  there  in  Iowa 
where  it  says  in  three  months  I  could  fix  myself 
up  for  a  good  stenographer,  and  in  six  months 
be  a  court  reporter,  and  of  course  nothing  short 
of  a  court  reporter  would  stop  me.  Just  think  of 
only  attending  school  from  four  to  six  months  and 
then  get  a  salary  of  from, — Oh,  I  don't  know  how 
much,  but  after  three  months  I  could  easily  get 
from  $60.00  to  $75.00  per  month  without  a  bit  of 
trouble,  and  I  have  made  up  my  mind  I  want  to 


10.  THB    STENOGRAPH KR 

go.  If  you  will  not  furnish  me  the  necessary 
wherewith,  I  will  borrow  it  and  go  anyhow." 

"That  all  sounds  well  enough  to  talk  about,  but 
I  guess  you  will  find  people  are  not  so  hungry  for 
reporters  and  stenographers  as  you  think  they 
are." 

"I  read  it  myself  in  the  circular  which  the 
school  man  sent  me,  and  of  course  he  would  not 
misrepresent  it  in  the  least.  It  says  'good  men 
always  in  demand/  so  you  see  there  would  be  no 
trouble  whatever  for  me." 

"Oh,  well,  if  you  are  so  determined,  we  will  see 
about  it  later  on,  but  I  am  satisfied  you  are  mak- 
ing the  mistake  of  your  life." 

Such  was  the  conversation  which  took  place  be- 
tween a  long,  lank-looking  country  boy  who  ans- 
wered to  the  name  of  "Jack,"  and  a  somewhat 
aged  man,  who.  was  his  sire.  Jack  was  made  up 
something  after  the  fashion  of  the  average  North- 
ern Missouri  farm  boy  of  the  age;  his  wardrobe 
consisted  of  about  as  meagre  a  make-up  as  the  law 
allowed — straw  hat,  hickory  shirt,  trousers  and 
some  large  looking  articles  which  he  called  shoes. 
The  little  articles  which  most  men  wear,  common- 
ly called  socks,  were  looked  upon  by  him  as  a 
sort  of  luxury  and  were  only  to  be  worn  in  cold 
weather.  The  trousers,  whether  from  an  idea  of 
economy  or  because  of  shrinkage,  we  are  not  at 
present  in  a  position  to  state,  but  sufficeth  to  say, 
they  lacked  about  two  inches  of  making  connec- 
tion with  the  top  of  his  shoes,  They  were  kept 


HIS    LIKE    AND    TRIALS.  II. 

suspended  and  held  in  their  proper  locality  by 
the  means  of  a  string  business  across  the  shoul- 
der, better  known  among  the  boys  as  a  "gallus. " 
It  depended  largely  upon  circumstances  whether  or 
not  two  of  these  "galluses"  were  used  or  only  one, 
as  one  would  answer  the  purpose  fairly  well,  and 
everything  went  to  show  that  he  had  a  great  dis- 
like for  superfluous  wearing  apparel. 

The  old  gentleman  was  more  respectable  look- 
ing, being  dressed  in  a  modern  farmer  style,  and 
while  he  was  quite  a  congenial  old  fellow  the  fact 
was  very  evident  that  he  did  not  in  the  least  ap- 
prove of  Jack's  going  away  to  school  to  squander 
money  and  time  in  attempting  to  learn  something 
that  he  would  never  be  able  to  realize  anything 
from.  Times  were  hard  and  money  market  close, 
especially  in  that  locality,  besides  the  money  nec- 
essary to  equip  the  young  enthusiast  would  buy 
ever  so  many  good  calves  then  for  sale  in  the  coun- 
try; this  all  had  a  bearing  at  this  critical  moment. 
However,  Jack  was  persistent,  and  as  there  was 
an  intervening  space  of  two  or  three  months  be- 
fore the  time  arrived  for  him  to  take  up  his  de- 
parture for  the  much  coveted  locality,  the  mat- 
ter rested  where  it  was  for  the  present,  sort  o'  be- 
tween heaven  and  earth  as  it  were,  or  at  least  so 
it  appeared  to  Jack. 

We  deem  it  proper  here  to  give  a  brief  account 
of  what  farm  life  was  at  that  time  in  that  part  of 
Missouri,  in  order  that  the  reader  more  fully  ap- 
preciate the  circumstances  which  surrounded  and 


12.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

the  duties  involved  upon  us,  at  the  time  we  first 
determined  to  give  vent  to  the  growing  ambition 
and  leave  the  farm. 

The  true  American  is  born  with  that  spirit  of 
unrest  in  him  that  is  never  satisfied  until  death 
has  ushered  in  the  change  that  puts  the  finishing 
touch  on  our  earthly  career.  I  was  no  exception 
to  this  rule,  hence  the  excitement  that  enters  into 
life  on  the  farm  failed  entirely  to  satisfy  or  grat- 
ify my  ambitious  desires.  Everything  was  pass- 
ing along  with  such  a  dull  expected  sameness,  the 
hills  were  just  where  they  had  been  for  years,  the 
trees  that  I  had  watched  and  played  under  in 
childhood,  still  continued  to  put  forth  their  leaves 
in  springtime,  and  with  exactly  the  same  regu- 
larity become  barren  in  winter.  The  creek  that 
ran  near  the  house  was  precisely  the  same  it  had 
been  ever  since  I  could  remember,  and  in  short  I 
was  disgusted  with  everything;  besides,  it  seemed 
my  work  was  never  done;  all  work  and  no  play. 
I  thought  I  was  the  most  unfortunate  creature  on 
the  face  of  the  globe,  and  that  everyone  else  was 
sailing  along  on  flowery  beds  of  ease.  How  little 
did  I  realize  what  the  then  undeveloped  future 
held  in  store  for  me,  and  how  many  times  have  I 
looked  back  since  and  thought  how  those  might 
have  been  the  most  pleasant  days  of  my  life. 
Father,  mother,  brothers  and  sisters,  all  at  home 
in  one  happy  family.  Often  and  often  have  I 
longed  but  for  one  more  such  gathering,  but  it  is 
impossible.  How  true  the  maxim,  We  never  know 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  13. 

when  we  have  a  good  thing  until  it  is  too  late.  I 
little  dreamed  what  city  life  was,  as  I  had  never 
been  in  a  town  of  any  size  since  I  was  a  mere 
child,  and  of  course  was  comparatively  ignorant 
concerning  its  mysteries,  but  the  brush  of  medita- 
tion had  been  busy  for  many  months  painting 
upon  the  panorama  of  my  imagination  the  won- 
ders and  excitement  that  such  a  life  held  in,  store 
for  me.  I  had  cherished  the  hope  so  long  and  so 
fondly  that  it  had  reached  the  point  where  noth- 
ing short  of  that  seemed  to  hold  any  induce- 
ment or  have  any  satisfaction  for  me  whatever. 
The  fire  of  life  had  been  ignited;  the  brush  con- 
tinued to  paint,  and  every  stroke  assisted  but  to 
fan  the  smouldering  fire  of  ambition  into  flames.  So 
it  is  with  the  one  shut  up  in  the  city;  if  they  could 
but  have  more  of  their  time  to  invest  upon  the 
farm  or  rural  retreats,  as  they  are  pleased  to  term 
it,  how  grand  it  would  be.  How  much  more  life 
would  be  worth  living  if  we  could  but  be  satisfied 
with  our  lot;  how  much  more  we  could  get  out  of 
life,  and  how  it  would  tend  to  raise  the  standard 
of  human  existence. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  go  away  back 
and  tell  you  who  my  grandmothers  and  grand- 
fathers were  on  both  sides  for  a  number  of  decades 
and  generations,  and  for  two  reasons  I  refrain 
from  doing  so,  first,  because  it  would  not  particu- 
larly interest  any,  and  second,  I  am  not  in  a  posi- 
tion just  now  to  do  so,  as  most  of  them  had 
passed  over  the  river  before  I  came  upon  the 


14-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

stage  of  action.     I  knew  but  a  grandfather  and  a 
grandmother,  personally. 

We  first  saw  the  sun  rise  in  the  state  of  Illinois, 
in  the  central  part,  Livingston  county,  and  as  I 
am  still  in  a  state  of  celibacy  I  withhold  announc- 
ing the  date  of  my  first  appearance  upon  the  arena, 
but  to  say  that  it  has  been  many  moons,  is  placing 
it  mildly.  My  parents  moved  from  that  state  to 
the  northern  part  of  Missouri  when  I  had  but 
passed  the  second  mile  post  of  my  existence,  con- 
sequently I  know  very  little  of  my  historical  career 
or  maneuvers  in  that  part  of  the  vineyard.  The 
song  I  learned  to  sing  when  young  expresses,  to  a 
great  degree,  the  surroundings,  which  was  some- 
thing like  the  following: 

"Amid  broad  fields  of  wheat  and  corn, 
The  lovely  home  where  I  was  born." 

The  northern  part  of  Missouri  in  the  seventies 
was  hardly  in  a  perfect  state  of  civilization.  'Tis 
true  the  Indian  had  been  driven  farther  west,  and 
the  most  ferocious  wild  animals  slaughtered  or  had 
their  minds  impressed  with  the  fact  that  it  was  no 
place  for  them  and  migrated  of  their  own  accord. 
That  class  of  people  who  are  never  exactly  con 
tented  unless  they  are  on  the  frontier  and  leading 
a  pioneer  life,  made  up  a  greater  portion  of  the 
population.  While  they  might  have  been  ever  so 
friendly  and  sociable,  they  were  not  satisfied  with 
the  thought  of  the  country  being  so  thickly  set 
tied  as  to  render  hunting  of  no  avail,  and  of  course 
soon  pushed  farther  west. 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  15.- 

•  . 

I  remember  very  distinctly  of  having  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  English  alphabet  inculcated  into  my 
cranium  while  sitting  on  a  bench  made  of  a 
slab,  with  holes  bored  through  it  and  pegs  put  in 
to  hold  it  up.  'Twas  a  sort  of  "Abraham  Lin- 
coln" or  "Andrew  Jackson"  school  house.  In 
fact  this  is  the  way  many  great  men  got  their 
start,  the  only  trouble  with  this  one  being,  it  was 
not  made  of  logs,  or  who  knows  what  the  result 
might  have  been  with  me?  It  was  really  a  nice, 
but  dirty  old  place,  the  birds  using  the  upper  part 
for  nesting  and  caring  for  their  young,  vermin 
using  the  lower  realms  for  various  purposes;  we 
occupied  the  center.  Despite  all  this  the  loca- 
tion was  beautiful,  the  elegant  natural  grove  be- 
hind the  house  and  the  fine  lawn  in  front  of  it 
weie  really  inviting;  but  to  be  frank  about  the 
matter,  the  building  itself  and  those  hard  old  slab 
benches  do  not  occupy  a  very  warm  place  in  my 
heart.  This,  however,  only  lasted  about  a  year 
and  a  half  of  my  school  days,  as  the  district  be- 
came so  far  advanced  in  civilization  they  erected 
a  new  school  house,  and  got  so  rashly  extravagant 
as  to  paint  it  white.  Neighboring  districts  looked 
upon  this  as  an  outlandish  outlay  of  means,  for  to 
add  to  all  this  terrible  display  of  wealth,  they  had 
"boughten"  seats  on  the  inside.  How  proud  we 
were,  and  how  much  easier  it  was  for  the  kids  to 
sit  still  when  they  could  have  something  to  place 
their  poor,  lean  backs  against,  and  not  have  more 
than  two  others  in  the  seat  with  them.  With  four 


16.  THE    STENOGRAPHKR 

• 

or  five  boys  all  sitting  on  one  slab  bench,  it  is 
next  to  impossible  to  keep  them  all  from  sliding 
up  in  a  bunch,  and  then  what  follows  is  too  well 
known  to  need  relating.  The  erection  of  the 
schoolhouse  in  our  district  appeared  to  eventually 
dawn  upon  the  obtuse  minds  of  the  adjoining  dis- 
tricts that  perhaps  it  was  a  tolerably  good  thing, 
so  some  of  the  rest  tried,  and  soon  the  old  pioneer 
school  houses  began  to  lose  their  grip  and  were  re- 
placed by  new  ones. 

I  always  was  a  sort  of  a  meek  kid  and  too  big  a 
coward  to  fight,  hence  I  escaped  many  a  black 
eye  which  a  majority  of  school  boys  had  the 
pleasure  of  wearing.  While  small  I  was  usually 
of  fair  deportment,  and  the  teacher  seldom  had 
occasion  to  administer  corporal  punishment.  Such 
things  as  getting  ears  twisted  considerably  out  of 
their  ordinary  posture,  nose  pulled,  or  fingers 
thumped  with  a  ruler  were  only  daily  occurrences, 
and  of  course  I  had  my  share  of  them.  I  remem- 
ber quite  clearly  of  having  committed  some  little 
misdemeanor  one  day  and  as  a  punishment  for 
the  same  I  was  compelled  to  go  over  and  sit  be- 
side one  of  the  gentler  sex.  Then,  it  was  to  me 
the  most  severe  and  cruel  punishment  and  looked 
upon  as  dreadful  treatment,  but  I  have  often 
thought  since,  what  a  fool  I  was.  The  lessons  of 
life  are  never  completely  learned  until  it  is  too 
/ate  to  take  advantage  of  opportunities,  and  when 
we  have  a  good  thing  we  never  have  sense  enough 
to  appreciate  it. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  1 7. 

Most  all  boys,  I  believe,  think  school  days  are  the 
most  horrible  of  their  lives;  that  is,  in  their  earlier 
school  days.  It  seems,  fish  will  never  bite  better 
than  during  the  very  time  they  are  at  school;  they 
never  have  a  greater  desire  to  help  mother  than  at 
about  nine  in  the  morning,  and  in  short  it  seems 
like  a  prison,  that  dull,  dirty  school  room.  I  was 
no  exception  to  the  rule  in  this  line  and  could 
not  help  thinking  they  were  mistreating  me  very 
much  by  compelling  me  to  go  to  school,  for  of 
course  I  went  with  no  other  thought  than  of  it 
being  a  case  of  absolute  necessity.  Most  parents 
like  to  have  the  kids  say  they  "like  to  go,"  "en- 
joy school,"  etc.,  and  my  oldest  sister  was  very 
anxious  that  I  should  be  in  this  mood.  One 
morning  on  being  questioned  on  this  point  by  a 
gentleman,  "Do  you  like  to  go  to  school?"  I 
frankly  answered,  "No,  sir."  'Tis  needless  to  say 
I  got  a  lecturing,  and  promised  I  would  answer 
affirmatively  henceforth,  and  so  I  did,  although  I 
often  knew  it  was  prevaricating. 

The  inducements  to  get  a  child  to  attend  school 
were  then  very  poor  as  compared  with  the  more 
modern  system.  Then  we  were  supposed  to  grasp 
and  dig  out  education,  or  a  start  at  least  from  the 
"three  R"  system.  Everything  was  fed  cold  and 
not  always  in  broken  doses  either.  There  was 
one  rule,  "get  your  lesson  or  take  a  licking," 
which  was  usually  more  or  less  respected. 

I  continued  in  this  way  until  I  began  to  verge 
into  my  teens  without  anything  very  startling  hap- 
pening to  mar  the  quietness  thereof. 


V 

CHAPTER  II. 

"ONE   OF  THE   BOYS." 

As  year  after  year  wore  away,  some  of  the 
childish  ideas  began  to  relax  their  hold  upon  me 
and  I  commenced  to  look  at  school  as  at  least  a 
few  grades  above  penitentiary  life,  and  by  stretch- 
ing the  word  truth  to  its  extreme  limit,  I  might 
say  that  ere  I  was  fifteen  I  looked  upon  attending 
the  place  where  education  was  dished  up,  with  a 
slight  degree  of  pleasure.  This  had  partially  been 
brought  about  by  a  number  of  circumstances 
which  have  a  tendency  to  mould  the  ideas  of  a 
boy  who  is  not  naturally  over-ambitious  to  engage 
in  the  labor  presenting  itself  on  a  farm.  By  this 
time  I  had  learned  to  follow  the  plow  with  becom- 
ing dignity,  wield  the  hoe  in  the  weed  patch,  ex- 
tract the  lacteal  fluid  from  the  bovine  groupe,  and 
various  other  little  duties  wherein  I  could  make 
myself  useful  as  well  as  ornamental.  It  might  be 
well  to  here  add  that,  like  most  other  boys,  about 
the  only  things  I  was  naturally  adapted  to,  was 
fishing  and  eating,  or  chasing  the  grey  squirrel 
through  the  woods,  or  at  other  times  follow  a  rab- 
bit track,  which  was  a  day  or  two  old,  for  a  few 
•niles.  Of  course  I  had  all  the  ailments  and  dis- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  19. 

eases  common  to  growing  kids;  possibly  I  skipped 
one  or  two  of  the  category,  but  among  the  ones 
yet  firmly  impressed  upon  my  memory  I  might 
enumerate  chicken-pox,  mumps,  measles  and  itch. 
The  latter  named  disease  was  of  the  seven-year 
variety;  however,  by  luxurious  and  persistent  use 
of  sulphur  we  succeeded  in  curtailing  its  career  to 
a  certain  extent.  I  believe  of  the  list,  this  one 
has  left  the  most  lasting  impression. 

I  usually  attended  the  tabernacle  of  learning 
about  nine  months  in  the  year  until  sixteen;  after 
that,  would  attend  about  four,  forgetting  during 
the  eight  what  I  learned  during  the  four,  hence 
just  about  retained  my  intellectual  equilibrium  for 
a  few  years.  It  was  the  custom  in  those  days  to 
have  the  kids  give  a  sort  of  a  young  exhibition  of 
their  oratorical  ability  on  Friday  afternoons,  which 
consisted  of  a  little  poetry,  partially  committed  to 
memory,  select  reading,  or  a  composition.  While 
I  did  not  take  kindly  to  any  of  these,  I  usually,  as 
a  matter  of  policy,  performed  enough  to  stay  the 
wrath  of  those  in  power  and  held  legal  authority 
to  wield  the  rod  of  correction.  To  give  you  a 
slight  idea  of  the  effort  I  sometimes  put  forth,  I 
insert  one  of  my  compositions  on  Christopher 
Columbus: 

"CHRISTOPHER   COLUMBUS. 

"It  is  said  that  Columbus  discovered  America, 
but  now  the  question  arises  how  did  he  discover 
it.  He,  according  to  history,  had  a  powerful  hard 
time  to  get  started,  across  the  deep.  Well,  ac^ 


2O.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

cording  to  history  he  went  whineing  around  try- 
ing to  get  some  of  his  friends  to  throw  in  5  cents 
to  help  him  get  started,  but  just  about  the  time  he 
had  commenced  to  get  his  influence  over  the  peo- 
ple there  was  some  fellows  took  the  advantage  of 
poor  old  Chris,  and  one  day  got  in  a  boat 
and  went  out  15  or  20  miles,  as  they  thought,  and 
looked  as  far  as  they  could  see,  but  they  could 
not  see  land,  so  they  went  back  and  said  that 
Columbus'  plan  was  a  fraud. 

"This  completely  bumswizzled  Columbus,  so  he 
went  home  discouraged,  but  he  was  a  man  that 
would  not  yield  to  discouragement. 

"So  in  a  few  centuries  he  again  tried  his  luck 
and  succeeded.  Chris.  Columbus  started  from 
England  to  discover  America;  he  was  the  happy 
owner  of  a  small  row  boat  and  two  hoop-poles  for 
propellers.  He  took  with  him  a  loaf  of  bread,  a 
clam  basket  and  an  old  ham  bone,  also  his  brother 
Nicodemus.  His  brother  had  a  hat  that  meas- 
ured five  miles  around  the  brim.  He  took  with 
him  for  society,  a  pig,  a  cat  and  a  rat,  and  for 
fear  they  would  quarrel  he  placed  the  rat  in  the 
sugar  bowl,  the  cat  in  the  salt  box  and  the  pig  in 
the  cabin.  Columbus  had  an  immense  watch; 
the  hour  hand  was  five  feet  long. 

"One  day  the  pig  took  a  walk  on  the  deck  and 
got  dizzy  and  fell  overboard  and  was  drowned. 
He  was  2  years,  3  months,  4  weeks,  5  days,  6  hours, 
30  min,.  50  sec.  old  at  the  time  of  his  death. 
Soon  after  this  Columbus  discovered  "Cat  Is- 


HIS    LITE    AND   TRIALS.  21. 

land,"  so  named  on  account  of  the  tremendous 
number  of  cats  that  peopled  the  island,  this  is  an 
island  that  is  in  America.  Poor  old  Chris  is 
dead  now  and  gone  away." 

Human  nature  has  peculiar  freaks  which  some- 
times we  are  at  a  loss  to  explain,  but  to  me  one  of 
the  deepest,  darkest  mysteries,  and  one  which  I 
am  at  a  loss  to  interpret  is,  why  even  a  school 
boy  will  acquire  such  a  strong  affinity  for  a  sister 
other  than  his  own.  A  fifteen  year  old  boy  will 
work  himself  half  to  death  tugging  at  a  sled, 
when  there  is  a  pretty  little  girl  perched  thereon, 
provided  she  is  not  his  sister,  while  he  could  not 
think  of  exerting  such  an  effort  on  her  behalf  un- 
der any  circumstances.  Most  boys  at  this  age, 
especially  while  attending  school,  gradually  be- 
come to  think  a  great  deal  more  of  some  certain 
girl  of  about  their  own  age  than  any  others,  and 
this  thought  harbored  and  cherished  month  after 
month,  he  finally  imagines,  perhaps  before  he  has 
reached  eighteen,  that  he  is  really  in  the  hands  of 
cupid,  and  unless  he  shall  some  day  have  her 
undivided  attention,  life  will  be  but  an  empty 
shell.  I  now  look  back  over  that  time  and  say 
(>\Vhat  fools  we  mortals  be."  Here  again  I  was 
no  exception  to  the  rule,  and  encountered  fully 
my  proportion  of  the  ups  and  downs  brought 
about  by  such  action. 

When  about  sixteen  an  incident  in  my  life  oc- 
curred w'hich  came  hear  causing  me  to  join  the 
silent  majority.  The  reptiles  known  as  a  "rattk-- 


22.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

snake"  were  quite  numerous  in  that  vicinity,  and 
their  bite  was  usually  looked  upon  as  fatal.  I 
was  in  the  field  one  day  in  the  summer,  and  as  the 
weather  was  very  pleasant  and  warm  I  removed 
the  large  boots  from  my  feet  and  began  meander- 
ing around  barefooted.  I  had  only  kept  this  up 
a  short  while  when  I  stepped  directly  on  a  rattle- 
snake, and  was  of  course  bitten.  It  had  only 
been  a  short  time  before  that  a  little  girl,  one  of 
the  neighbor's,  had  been  similarly  afflicted  and  had 
resulted  in  death.  The  first  thought  that  flew 
across  my  mind  was  to  slay  the  intruder,  which 
act  was  accomplished  with  due  deliberation;  then 
came  the  thought  which  has  for  ages  perplexed 
nations,  "Where  will  I  go  if  I  die? 

I  did  not  then  look  upon  death  in  the  same 
light  that  I  now  do,  or  perhaps  it  would  have  ap- 
peared less  terrible;  then,  it  presented  an  awful 
picture  to  my  excited  imagination.  About  all  I 
could  get  into  my  cranium  was,  Jack  laid  out, 
funeral  procession,  hole  in  the  ground  about  five 
feet  long  and  then!  Then,  all  was  blank.  I  had 
never  studied  the  mysteries  of  the  future,  other 
than  what  I  had  occasionally  heard  from  mother 
or  the  Sunday  school  teacher.  Their  spiritual  ad- 
monition had  been  looked  upon  very  lightly,  but 
now  the  mean  things  I  had  done  began  to  flood 
my  troubled  brain  to  a  desperate  degree.  Tis 
easy  enough  to  talk  about  dying,  while  in  good 
health,  but  when  it  comes  to  the  point  where 
we  realize  it  is  on  the  verge  of  reality,  or  when 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  23. 

one  thinks  his  time  has  come  to  cross  the  gulf,  the 
matter  appears  altogether  different.  I  was  about 
three  miles  from  home  when  the  accident  occurred, 
and,  as  was  the  custom,  the  first  thing  to  do  in 
cases  of  that  kind  was  to  dope  the  invalid  with 
whiskey.  My  brother  came  to  my  rescue  and  we 
secured  some  of  the  fiery  drug  from  a  neighbor- 
ing house.  The  first  "swig"  I  took  came  near 
cheating  the  snakebite  out  of  its  glory,  as  it  was  so 
strong  it  canie  near  strangling  me,  for  in  the  ex- 
cited state  I  was  then  in,  I  took  much  more  than 
should  have  been  given  to  one  of  my  age.  After 
a  brief  struggle  I  commenced  to  breathe  with  a 
little  less  effort.  About  this  time  another  old  time 
remedy  was  applied — that  of  burning  the  wound 
with  a  view  of  the  fire  drawing  the  poison  out.  I 
afterwards  discovered  that  such  a  remedy  was 
perhaps  all  right  in  theory,  but  it  fell  far  short  in 
actual  practice,  for  the  burning  hurt  so  I  could 
not  endure  it,  and  furthermore  would  not.  The 
fire  burning  at  my  foot,  the  whiskey  internally  get- 
ting in  its  work,  and  my  agitated  brain,  all  worked 
in  unison  to  make  life  exceedingly  lively  for  a  sea- 
son. By  the  time  we  reached  home  the  afflicted 
member  had  swollen  to  considerably  above  its 
normal  state.  The  excitement  around  home  which 
would  naturally  follow,  took  place.  I  was  chucked 
into  bed,  the  whiskey  supply  replenished  by  one 
of  the  boys  going  seven  miles  to  the  nearest  vil- 
lage; in  the  meantime  I  was  being  doped  with 
what  the  neighbors  had,  my  foot  soaked  in  various 


24.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

poison  antidotes,  and  everything  being  done  that 
possibly  could  be  to  thwart  the  purpose  of  Mr. 
Snake.  About  6  p.  m.,  (the  wound  having  been 
inflicted 'about  2  p.  m.)  the  whiskey  began  to  affect 
me  quite  severely,  and  before  seven,  I  was  really 
drunk.  I  shall  never  forget  the  feeling,  how  very 
queer  it  was;  have  never  been  in  such  a  condition 
since,  either  from  snake  or  liquor  trouble,  but  that 
once  gave  me  an  experience  never  to  be  forgotten. 
It  happened  the  family  were  all  out  of  the  room  at 
this  time,  and  despite  the  swollen  foot,  I  got  out 
of  bed  and  ran  out  into  the  yard  and  acted  as  one 
just  escaping  from  a  lunatic  asylum.  Whether  the 
whiskey,  fire  or  the  other  antidotes  applied  did  the 
work,  I  am  unable  to  say,  but  before  midnight 
the  pain  had  become  very  materially  lessened  and 
the  danger  was  over.  After  a  few  days  remain- 
ing in  bed,  I  was  again  on  my  feet,  but  my  foot 
being  left  in  a  very  bad  condition  it  was  deemed 
wise  to  not  allow  me  to  travel  around  very  much, 
hence  I  was  again  allowed  to  attend  school. 

About  this  time  there  was  a  family  from  one  of 
the  eastern  states  came  west  and  located  in  our 
immediate  vicinity,  about  two  miles  from  where  we 
lived.  The  country  west  of  us  was  rough  and  cover- 
with  light  timber,  east  of  us  was  prairie.  As  cir- 
cumstances SO  happened,  this  family  lived  west. 
While  the.  family  of  itself  was  nothing  extraordi- 
nary, there  was  one  member  of  it,  being  of  the 
female  persuasion,  that  was  to  my  then  inexperi- 
enced mind  considerably  out  of  the  common  line. 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  25. 

Imported  articles  are  presumably  the  best  always, 
and  perhaps  this  was  one  reason  why  I  looked 
upon  this  new  comer  with  so  much  favor.  To  do 
her  justice,  however,  she  was  a  little  ahead  of  the 
average  girl  that  then  inhabited  that  strip  of  the 
woods,  and  it  is  nothing  more  than  right  that  I 
here  admit  I  was  always  quite  easily  influenced  by 
the  gentler  sex,  and  am  not  in  a  position  to  say 
that  it  is  entirely  outgrown  yet,  but  materially  im- 
proved in  this  respect.  Jennie  McGinnis  was  a 
girl  with  such  a  quick,  sharp  eye,  honest  counte- 
nance and  industrious,  that  one  could  not  help 
admiring  her;  and  then,  I  am  now  convinced  she 
was  a  little  coquettish.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
I  thought  she  was  "pretty  fine,"  and  she  had  no 
hesitancy  in  showing  by  her  actions  that  my  at- 
tentions were  cordially  received  and  that  she  was 
a  firm  believer  in  reciprocity.  Talk  about  back- 
woods courtship!  *  *  *  The  following  year 
held  much  in  store  for  me.  I  was  such  a  fre- 
quenter at  the  McGinnis  house  that  even  the  dog 
became  to  treat  me  as  one  of  the  family,  and  of 
course,  as  boys  always  are,  I  was  as  much  in  love 
with  the  whole  family  as  with  the  girl,  but  nat- 
urally preferred  her  solitary  association  to  that  of 
the  entire  generation.  A  fellow  has  got  to  have 
an  abundance  of  tenacity  to  successfully  wait  upon 
ayoungjadyin  such  localities.  The  entire  fami- 
ly, including  the  dog,  congregate  in  the  select 
room  during  the  evening,  and  regardless  of  who 
was  present  or  previous  conditions  of  servitude 


26.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

the  old  gentleman,  the  old  lady  and  a  regular  gen- 
eration of  children  would  take  up  their  post  and 
stand  by  it  manfully.  Of  course  I  had  my  place. 
I'd  play  with  the  kids,  talk  to  the  old  man  about 
crops,  politics,  religion  and  measles,  and  then 
turn  and  talk  to  the  old  lady  about  the  neighbors 
awhile,  and  occasionally  wink  at  the  girl.  After 
keeping  this  up  for  a  few  hours  the  kids  would  be- 
gin to  wilt  like  a  summer  Four  O'clock  in  the  sun, 
and  as  kid  after  kid  would  go  down  and  be  grap- 
pled in  the  arms  of  morpheus,  the  elder  children 
would  drag  them  off  to  bed.  Occasionally  the 
dragee  would  be  aroused  by  the  rough  treatment 
he  received,  and  the  conversation  that  would  im- 
mediately follow,  at  times  had  a  tendency  to  em- 
barrass a  fellow  a  little,  especially  when  consider- 
ing the  surroundings;  this,  however,  one  soon  be- 
came accustomed  to,  and  when  the  occasion  de 
manded  could  help  drag  the  young  intruders  out 
with  pretty  good  grace,  for  by  so  doing  it  hastened 
the  time  when  I  should  have  the  undivided  atten- 
tion of  Miss  Jennie.  After  the  little  offsprings 
had  all  been  dumped  into  their  sleeping  apart- 
ments and  the  dust  which  had  been  agitated  by 
the  recent  struggle,  had  cleared  away,  the  old  man 
would  start  in  afresh,  tell  a  string  or  two  of  fish 
stories,  each  of  which  I  knew  I  had  to  pay  strict 
attention  to  in  order  to  hold  my  job.  Of  course  I 
would  always  laugh  heartily,  even  though  the 
tales  be  as  dry  as  chipL.  Every  time  the  old  man 
would  give  a  good  big  yawn  I  would  take  fresh 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  27. 

courage,  for  I  knew  the  time  was  fast  approaching 
when  he  would  succumb  to  the  inevitable  attack 
of  'inorpheus.  When  the  opportunity  presented 
itself,  I  would  try  and  get  in  a  few  words  to  the 
effect  that  aged  people  required  more  sleep  than 
middle  aged  or  young  people,  but  despite  all  my 
efforts  the  antique  gentleman  would  remain  faith  ' 
fully  at  his  post  until  it  would  seem  I  must  give  up 
in  despair.  His  better  half  would,  if  she  hap- 
pened to  notice  my  uneasy  posture  and  restless 
disposition,  broach  the  subject  of  retiring.  This 
would  sometimes  prove  effective,  at  other  times 
cause  but  a  look  at  the  clock,  stretch  of  the  body 
and  enable  him  to  start  off  on  another  line  of  fish 
stories,  or  tales  of  the  wonderful  land  of  "back 
where  I  come  from."  'Tis  needless  to  say  that  I 
invariably  agreed  with  him  on  all  points,  regard 
less  of  whether  on  neighbors,  cattle,  church  or 
state,  although  at  the  time  I  might  know  he  was 
prevaricating,  perhaps  unintentionally.  What  a 
dickens  of  a  time  he  did  have  with  those  oxen 
when  he  was  a  boy!  I  have  never  forgotten  all 
those  tales,  not  by  consiberable,  and  as  they  so 
cruelly  punished  me  I  would  not  think  of  admin- 
istering them  to  others  with  any  thought  of  enter- 
tainment or  knowledge. 

I  have  always  entertained  a  friendly  feeling  for 
the  mother,  partially  for  the  kindness  shown  me 
during  my  visits  there,  and  the  very  material 
assistance  furnished  ine  in  later  years,  which  may 
be  explained  further  on. 


CHAPTER  III. 

DIFFICULTIES    ATTENDING    COUNTRY    LIFE. 

As  all  things  come  to  those  who  wait,  so  it 
would  be  on  occasions  of  this  nature,  for  finally 
sleep  would  approach  them  with  such  terrible 
velocity  they  must  answer  its  calls.  The  heavy 
boots  withdrawn  and  the  nether  garments  of  the 
foot,  commonly  called  hosiery  (which  we  might 
add  were  non-odorless)  dislodged  and  placed  in 
the  proper  receptacle,  much  to  my  glory  they 
would  take  their  departure,  not  however  with- 
out cautiously,  warning  Jennie  against  remaining 
up  late. 

I  am  not  an  advocate  of  late  hour  keeping,  but 
under  such  circumstances  I  believe  if  ever  a  fel- 
low is  warranted  in  holding  forth  until  the  short 
hours  of  the  morning,  under  such  he  certainly 
would  be,  and  so  thought  I  then.  We  were  both 
bashful,  and  the  dreadful  quietness  which  seized 
the  room  when  the  chatter  which  had  been  perme- 
ating the  atmosphere  with  such  startling  rapidity  for 
hours  had  become  a  thing  v.  *  the  past,  it  almost 
caused  one  to  think  of  a  fungal,  and  all  those 
beautiful  thoughts  that  had  been  cherished  for  two 
or  three  days  to  tell  her  when  the  opportunity  pre- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  29. 

sented  itself,  now  vanished.  There  is  a  stillness 
which  has  a  terror;  such  this  would  be  occasion- 
ally; however,  we  were  both  aware  of  the  fact  that 
the  more  quietness  that  prevailed  just  now,  the 
earlier  the  time  would  be  marked  when  the  head 
of  the  ranch  would  be  dreaming  of  those  oxen  and 
potatoes.  Of  course  we  could  so  arrange  matters 
that  we  would  not  be  compelled  to  talk  very  loud 
that  the  other  might  hear  *  *  *  and  would  get 
along  fairly  well  for  a  few  hours,  but  you  may  im- 
agine about  what  time  the  clock  would  register  ere 
this.  Two  long  miles  through  the  timber  and  a 
very  rough  road  before  I  could  reach  home,  per- 
haps the  weather  cold,  or  dark  and  rainy;  if  the 
latter,  to  say  the  least,  it  was  a  terrible  trip,  for 
in  places  the  road  was  almost  impassable,  and  then 
there  is  always  a  dreadful  fear  that  haunts  boys 
when  called  upon  to  pass  through  heavy  timber  on 
occasions  like  this.  The  trees  each  apparently 
harbor  some  formidable  creature  with  eyes  glaring 
at  you,  or  claws  outstretched,  ready  to  light  upon 
your  quivering  frame  as  you  pass.  More  than 
once  in  making  this  trip,  which  I  did  very  fre- 
quently, has  my  hair. been  caused  to  seemingly 
turn  to  bristles,  and  my  heart  beat  like  a  drum- 
stick, and  on  such  occasions  I  would  solemnly  de- 
cide in  my  own  mind  that  never  would  I  remain 
so  late  again,  but  on  the  next  occasion  the  very 
same  hour  would  perhaps  call  my  departure  from 
the  cottage  where  the  flower  of  my  existence  held 
forth. 


30.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Charity  is  like  truth,  it  is  mighty  and  must  pre- 
vail, and  it  is  hardly  probable  that  any  youth  ever 
had  this  idea  more  firmly  imbeded  in  his  cranium 
than  did  I.  I  apparently  moved  in  a  different 
sphere  while  in  her  presence,  and  certainly  did 
while  all  the  little  McGinnes'  were  around. 

These  trips  across  the  country  were  usually 
made  on  horseback,  and  the  terror  that  would 
overcome  an  individual  under  the  circumstances 
above  related,  when  learning  that  the  faithful  ani- 
mal had  broken  loose  and  endeavored,  to  keep 
better  hours  than  his  rider,  left  me  behind  to 
mourn  his  departure,  can  be  imagined.  ,  Among 
all  my  numerous  trips,  however,  this  happened 
only  once;  but,  oh,  that  once!  It  was  enough  for 
a  lifetime,  and  now  I  do  not  need  to  seek  very 
deep  in  memory's  store  house  to  bring  forth  the 
incident. 

It  was  on  one  Sunday  afternoon  in  autumn,  I 
placed  the  saddle  upon  a  young  horse,  a  very 
nice  one,  too,  which  was  the  favorite  with  my 
father.  The  animal  was  feeling  quite  gay,  and  to 
do  justice  to  all  concerned,  we  might  say  the  rider 
was  about  ditto.  There  was  a  school  house  about 
a  mile  beyond  where  McGinnis  lived,  and  I  was 
in  the  habit  of  attending  Sunday  school  there  i.i 
the  afternoon  and  then  stop  at  the  place  of  attrac- 
tion on  my  return.  On  this  particular  afternoon 
I  visited  this  place,  as  was  the  custom,  and  after 
the  meeting  was  out  I  loitered  around  for  a  short 
time  with  a  number  of  other  boys,  and  finally 


1I1.S    LIKE    AND    TRIALS.  31. 

went  quite  a  distance  from  the  house  with  one  of 
.them;  when  returning  the  people  had  all  departed, 
and  likewise  my  horse,  as  he  had  broken  loose. 
The  timber  was  very  dense  around  there  and  the 
undergrowth  in  places  was  so  thick  it  would  be 
impossible  for  a  horse  to  get  through  with  saddle 
and  bridle  on,  without  becoming  entangled.  My 
blood  almost  stood  still  for  a  moment,  for  I  knew 
that  while  it  was  possible  the  horse  would  follow 
the  road  around  and  reach  home  in  safety,  it  was 
not  at  all  probable,  for  its  natural  inclination 
would  be  to  start  directly  east,  which  was  an  im- 
passable country  under  the  circumstances.  What 
would  the  man  of  the  house  at  home  say,  and  oh, 
golly,  how  could  I  ever  make  it  around  to  see  Jen- 
nie! It  was  simply  hoping  in  the  face  of  an  inevita- 
ble fate,  and  should  that  pride  of  my  father  be 
found  strangled  in  the  woods,  if  discovered  at  all, 
I  could  only  conjecture  the  consequences.  It  was 
almost  sundown,  three  miles  from  home,  two 
creeks  to  cross,  horse  to  find,  girl  to  sec,  and  a 
mind  so  bewildered  I  could  not  tell  how  old 
I  was. 

I  bid  my  friend  a  hurried  good-night  and  start- 
ed for  home,  endeavoring  if  possible  to  trace  the 
horse,  but  as  darkness  was  coining  on,  I  did  not 
dare  remain  in  the  woods  on  foot.  I  covered 
those  three  miles  in  an  alarming  short  time,  and 
reached  home  just  at  dusk;  but  to  reach  home  was 
but  to  add  woe  to  my  misery. 


32.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

My  father  usually  kept  some  men  around  the 
place  -to  assist  in  farm  work,  and  besides,  I  had  a 
brother  that  would  find  no  greater  delight  than 
torturing  me  under  such  circumstances.  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  I  sought  the  barn  yard  the 
very  first  move.  Father  was  at  the  house,  and  I 
did  not  break  the  news  to  him,  and  much  to  my 
surprise,  the  boys  rather  sympathized  and  looked 
upon  my  dilema  from  a  standpoint  of  commisera- 
tion rather  than  jest.  This  of  course  did  nothing 
toward  finding  the  horse,  but  helped  to  raise  the 
cloud  slightly,  as  I  expected  a  great  hurrah  from 
them  when  they  discovered  my  position.  A  lost 
horse  and  a  waiting  girl! — where  is  the  boy  that 
could  think  of  resting  under  these  conditions? 
I  immediately  saddled  another  horse  and  ostensi- 
bly went  to  look  for  the  lost  one,  but  despite  the 
terror  brought  upon  me  by  the  thought  that  the  poor 
brute  was  possibly  tangled  up  in  the  timber  and  at 
the  point  of  death  from  strangulation,  the  thought  of 
the  girl  reigned  first,  and  ere  I  had  proceeded  a  mile 
on  my  mission  as  horse  seeker,  the  thought  of  her 
anxious,  disappointed  looks  and  waiting  were  more 
than  I  could  bear,  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion, 
horse  or  no  horse,  I  would  go  and  see  the  girl, 
and  did  so.  I  .tried  to  smooth  my  conscience 
over  with  the  thought  that  all  will  be  well  in  the 
morning  and  the  lost  be  standing  at  the  gate.  It 
was  very  late  when  I  arrived,  but  the  father  of  the 
generation  had  not  yet  decided  upon  retiring.  His 
tales  seemed  dreadfully  dry  to-night,  and  I  was 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  3J. 

figgity,  but  stuck  it  out,  and  after  he  had  departed, 
I  broke  the  news  to  Jennie.  She  was  considera- 
bly wrought  up  over  my  misfortune,  whether  from 
real  feeling  for  me  or  the  horse,  I  could  not  say, 
but  she  sympathized  with  me  and  of  course  advo- 
cated the  idea  of  "all  would  be  well  in  the  morn- 
ing." After  an  hour  of  talking  on  different  sub- 
jects, the  horse  question  rather  lost  its  grip  upon 
me  and  I  lived  in  something  like  a  state  of  enjoy- 
ment for  awhile  until  after  the  night  had  reached 
its  summit  by  several  minutes. 

I  had  no  more  than  reached  the  poor  creature 
that  was  to  carry  me  home,  after  leaving  the  house, 
than  the  thought  broke  forth  afresh  and  with  all 
its  former  terror.  There  was  no  use,  I  could  not 
sleep  in  such  a  troubled  state  of  mind,  so  resolved 
to  take  a  little  scout  around  for  the  horse.  It  was 
like  looking  for  a  lost  child  in  London.  The  idea  of 
looking  for  a  horse  in  two  or  three  thousand  acres 
of  timber,  and  that  in  the  night;  yet  the  hunting,  in 
a  measure,  satisfied  a  burning  conscience.  I  kept 
up  the  search  until  nearly  daylight,  and  then  went 
home  in  despair,  to  find  there  nothing  but  disap- 
pointment again.  I  went  to  the  house,  and  had 
just  placed  my  head  on  the  place  of  rest,  when 
the  family  became  aroused  and  began  preparing 
for  the  day. 

There  was  no  use  dodging  the  issue  any  longer; 
the  news  must  now  be  spread  before  the  old  gen- 
tleman. I  thought  there  was  but  two  things  to  do; 
one  was  to  tell  him  and  rush  out  and  jump  into 


34-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

the  well,  or  to  get  my  brother  to  act  as  spokes- 
man, after  I  had  again  started  out  to  search  for  the 
lost  treasure.  I  decided  upon  the  latter;  and  by  the 
time  the  sun  had  reached  the  height  to  be  in  full 
view  I  was  on  the  road.  Tom  broke  the  news  to 
the  head  of  the  family  after  he  was  sure  I  was  out 
of  reach,  and  then  he  sought  the  realms  of  the 
barn;  in  other  words,  a  case  of  "flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come."  It  is  not  necessary  to  pen  the 
words  that  fell  from  his  lips  when  Tom  had 
finished. 

I  scoured  the  woods,  I  thought  completely,  un- 
til about  noon,  but  my  efforts  were  as  barren  as 
the  desert,  and  the  loss  of  sleep,  together  with 
the  worry,  began  to  tell  on  me.  It  seemed  I 
could  hold  out  no  longer,  and  I  went  home  resolv- 
ing to  let  come  what  might. 

Upon  reaching  the  gate  I  was  almost  completely 
exhausted.  By  this  time,  however,  the  wrath  of 
my  progenitor  had  somewhat  subsided,  and  I  ap- 
proached him  in  such  a  meek,  sneaking  way,  that 
he  took  pity  on  me  and  did  not  lecture  me  very 
severely,  yet  he  did  not  say  anything  about  my 
resting,  but  had  Tom  saddle  another  horse  and 
accompany  me,  with  instructions  to  seek  until 
found.  It  was  almost  like  placing  a  man  in  a 
stale  of  exile,  for  it  now  began  to  dawn  upon  me 
there,  would  be  nothing  more  to  eat  until  the  horse 
was  found,  unless  I  went  over  to  see  Jennie;  the 
pride  which  I  possessed  forbade  me  doing  this. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIAL.  35. 

Tom  sympathized  with  me  now,  and  after  going 
for  an  hour  or  so  we  came  to  some  thickets;  it 
was  impossible  to  proceed  further  on  horseback, 
so  I  hitched  my  horse  and  placed  my  limber  frame 
upon  the  ground.  We  agreed  that  should  we  find 
the  object  of  our  search,  the  fact  was  to  be  made 

known  by  a  shout. 

Such  an  effort  as  it  was  to  walk,  but  I  proceeded 
on  and  on,  wandering  hither  and  thither,  until  the 
sun  was  crawling  considerably  to  the  westward. 
What  would  we  do  should  night  again  approach 
and  the  horse  not  found?  I  could  never  go  home, 
and  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  remain  there  after 
dusk,  as  it  was  all  one  could  do  to  get  around 
in  the  daylight. 

After  having  kept  this  up  until  just  about  ready 
to  give  up  in  despair,  I  heard  Tom  shout;  the 
blood  in  my  veins  started  afresh  and  I  was  changed 
in  an  instant,  but  then  the  thought  flashed  across 
my  mind,  dead  or  alive;  if  the  former,  what  then? 

I  rushed  toward  the  sound  of  his  voice  with  all 
possible  dispatch,  and  upon  reaching  him,  you 
may  imagine  my  surprise  and  delight  to  find  every- 
thing all  right,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  broken 
straps.  The  horse  had  simply  become  entangled, 
and  there  waited  patiently,  or  not  exactly  patient- 
ly either,  as  the  ground  gave  evidence  that  all  the 
waiting  had  not  been  as  patient  as  it  might  have 
been,  but  it  waited  because  it  could  not  do  other- 
wise. 


36.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

I  lost  just  as  little  time  as  possible  after  this 
until  I  had  my  feet  under  the  table  and  was  par- 
taking of  the  luxuries  of  the  land,  with  a  clear 
conscience,  but,  I  guess,  a  sneaking  appearance. 

After  this,  father  McGinnis  always  took  partic- 
ular pains  to  see  that  my  horse  was  placed  in  his 
barn  during  my  stay  there,  and  as  practice  makes 
perfect,  I  soon  learned  the  crooks  of  his  barn  and 
could  go  in-and  get  my  animal  without  difficulty. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AMBITION    AND    ITS    FRUITS. 

A  year  or  so  passed  without  Anything  of  much 
importance  occurring,  during  which  time  I  was 
attending  school  in  winter  and  laboring  on  the 
farm  in  summer,  forgetting  what  I  had  conquered 
in  an  intellectual  line  during  the  winter;  but  as 
most  of  the  boys  of  my  age  there  in  the  neighbor- 
hood did  not  even  attend  school  in  the  winter,  I 
was  considered  quite  fortunate  in  this  regard.  All 
this  time,  too,  my  visits  at  the  house  of  Jennie  was 
as  regular  as  of  old.  By  this  time  I  had  become 
so  familiar  with  all  the  family  I  could  assist  in  the 
grand  drag,  at  retiring  time  for  the  kids,  with  a 
good  grace,  and  was  only  anxious  for  the  ap- 
proach of  such  time.  The  antique  man  had  told 
me  all  the  tales  he  knew  five  or  six  times,  and 
every  incident  of  his  life  from  kidhood  to  old  age, 
I  think,  but  I  had  to  swallow  it  all  without  a  whim- 
per, or  at  least,  thought  so. 

About  this  time  my  ambition  began  to  burst 
over  its  bounds,  and  I  came  to  the  conclusion  I 
had  been  in  the  intellectual  rut  long  enough,  and 
that  something  must  be  done  to  give  my  cogitative 
powers  more  sway  and  a  larger  field,  consequently 


448401 


38.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

it  was  decided  that  Jack  be  allowed  to  attend 
school  in  a  neighboring  village  during  the  winter. 
Upon  receiving  assurance  of  this  fact,  I  was  appa- 
rently six  inches  taller  and  imagined  that  after  a 
short  course  in  "town  school,"  to  cause  a  stag- 
nation in  the  business  world  and  grapple  with 
the  mighty  men  of  the  earth  would  require  but  a 
meagre  effort  on  my  part.  The  village  was  only 
about  ten  miles  from  home,  but  my  back  once 
turned  upon  the  dfudgery  of  farm  life,  I  was  fair- 
ly well  satisfied,  for  I  little  questioned  but  what  I 
was  going  to  make  my  strike  in  life  in  a  few 
months  at  the  longest. 

The  place  .was  small,  and  the  people  a  very 
nice  class  of  individuals.  But  of  course  they 
could  at  a  glance  penetrate  my  extreme  greenness, 
yet  they  sympathized  with  me  and  treated  me 
kindly,  and  I  shall  always  remember  the  people 
of  Roxbury  with  liindness.  I  soon  became  ac- 
quainted, had  the  rough  edges  knocked  off  little 
by  little,  until  in  a  few  weeks  I  was  enjoying  life 
very  well  and  at  the  same  time  getting  a  little  phi- 
losophy and  cold  mathematics  impressed  upon  my 
obtuse  mind.  I  studied  a  little  occasionally  when 
the  circumstances  demanded,  and  usually  had  my 
lessons  as  well  as  the  average. 

There  was  quite  a  large  school,  and,  as  would 
naturally  follow,  there  was  quite  a  number  of  ideal 
school  girls,  some  of  which  I  thought  tolerably 
nice,  and  the  more  I  let  this  idea  operate  upon 
me  the  more  I  became  impressed  with  the  fact 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  39. 

that  there  were  really  others  of  the  fairer  portion 
of  the  race  besides  Jennie,  and  I  did  not  seem  to 
like  her  as  I  used  to;  did  not  see  her  very  often 
and  did  not  take  occasion  to  write  very  promptly 
after  receiving  her  letters.  That  I  treated  her 
real  mean,  would  be  about  the  proper  expression. 
When  I  occasionally  went  to  see  her  during  my 
stay  in  town  she  would  accuse  me  of  inattention 
regarding  her,  and  insinuate  that  I  was  allowing 
my  copious  affections  to  float  in  other  directions. 
Of  course  I  would  positively  deny  that  I  had  ever 
allowed  any  such  thoughts  to  meander  through 
my  rapidly  developing  brain;  but  the  fact  of  the 
matter  was,  I  never  seemed  to  care  very  much 
for  Jennie  except  while  in  her  presence; -and,  as 
Lew  Wallace  says,  "There  is  no  philosophy  in  such 
love,"  etc. 

It  always  pleased  me  to  visit  home  about  once 
a  month,  sometimes  a  little  oftener,  and  remain  a 
day  or  two  and  then  return  to  school.  On  one  of 
these  occasions,  for  the  second  time  in  my  exist- 
ence, I  thought  the  time  had  arrived  for  me  to 
cross  the  golden  gutter  and  render  up  an  account 
of  my  stewardship  to  the  man  at  the  gate. 

It  was  customary  for  me  to  remain  at  home  on 
such  visits  during  Saturday,  and  until  Sunday 
evening,  and  then  return;  but  on  this  particular 
date,  on  account  of  a  severe  snow  storm,  it  was 
decided  I  had  better  wait  until  the  next  day. 
There  were  some  neighboring  boys  that  lived  about 
a  mile  from  our  home,  and  being  very  anxious  to  see 


40.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

them,  Tom   and  I  resolved  we  would  go  over  and 
call  on  them  that  evening. 

We  went  on  horseback,  and  I  was  perched  upon 
the  back  of  a  fleet-footed  animal,  though  young, 
and  not  familiar  to  carrying  a  passenger  through 
a  driving  snow  storm.  The  snow  had  drifted 
very  deep  in  places,  and  it  being  so  cold  and  dis- 
agreeable, we  wished  to  abbreviate  the  time  re- 
quired to  pass  over  the  intervening  space  between 
home  and  the  object  of  our  mission,  hence  we 
were  riding  very  rapidly,  and  in  passing  over  the 
brow  of  a  small  hill,  in  starting  down  the  incline, 
we  ran  right  into  a  snow  drift,  and  the  horse  which 
carried  me  stumbled  and  fell,  throwing  me  com- 
pletely over  his  head,  and  I  struck  on  my  back  in 
the  snow.  The  fall  did  not  hurt  me  much,  the 
snow  being  very  light,  but  the  animal  was  fright- 
ened and  in  floundering  around  to  get  up,  struck 
me  squarely  in  the  face  with  his  front  foot.  Talk 
about  astronomy,  but  I  think  the  stars  I  saw  would 
fully  equal  the  number  of  the  whole  universe,  and 
but  from  the  fact  that  the  horse  had  no  shoe  on, 
I  would,  beyond  a  doubt,  there  and  then,  have 
joined  the  silent  majority.  As  it  was,  the  snow-being 
soft,  my  head  gave  way  easily  and  the  hoof  of  the 
animal  slipped  off,  not,  however,  without  having 
taken  considerable  of  the  cuticle  from  my  face. 
Fright,  pain  and  cold  together  wrought  upon  me 
to  such  an  extent  that  I  did  not  know  whether  to 
conclude  I  was  sure  enough  dead,  or  whether  I 
should  get  up.  Tom  came  to  my  rescue  and 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  41. 

picked  up  what  there  was  left  of  me,  but  when  he 
saw  the  disfigured  condition  of  my  features  he  was 
considerably  excited.  Acting  upon  first  impulse, 
he  tied  our  handkerchiefs  around  my  face,  recap- 
tured the  horses  and  we  turned  homeward,  being 
then  about  half  a  mile  from  home.  Upon  reach- 
ing the  house  I  was  a  frightful  looking  sight,  the 
blood  having  run  down  and  frozen  in  all  sorts  of 
shapes  on  my  face;  this,  together  with  the  hand- 
kerchief blurring  it  around,  caused  me  to  resem- 
ble an  inhabitant  of  the  morgue.  Poor  mother 
was  frightened  half  to  cleaA,  but  true  to  a  mother's 
nature,  she  soon  had  my  face  washed  and  band- 
aged as  best  she  could  and  my  dilapidated  form 
placed  in  bed.  By  receiving  kind  treatment  and 
the  very  best  possible  care,  I  was  soon  able  to  be 
up,  and  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  so  went  back 
to  school,  although  the  wounds  were  not  yet  all 
healed  up;  time,  however,  placed  my  face  in 
about  as  respectable  a  condition  as  ever,  with  the 
exception  of  one  or  two  small  scars  which  were 
stamped  there  for  life. 

Circumstances  under  which  I  was  placed  while 
attending  school  here,  brought  me  in  contact  with 
a  people  that  had  a  tendency  somewhat  to  change 
my  life  to  a  certain  extent  morally,  and  despite 
boyish  hilarity  and  fun,  which  is  natural  in  a 
human,  I  felt  the  need  of  something  a  little  differ- 
ent, a  little  more  peace  of  mind.  In  other  words, 
I  awoke  to  the  fact  that  man  has  interests  other 
than  those  that  are  material;  he  has  aspirations 


42.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

that  sweep  beyond  time  and  this  world;  he  is  more 
than  his  body;  he  is  greater  than  his  life;  he  has 
a  vision  that  is  not  of  the  eye;  he  has  within,  a 
"still  small  voice"  that  compels  attention  now  and 
then.  We  are  apt  to  forget  these  things  in  this 
whirling  age  and  country.  Most  of  us  are  utter- 
ly immersed  in  worldy  pursuits  and  wholly  occu- 
pied with  selfish  struggles,  so  that  the  moral  part 
of  our  nature  is  wholly  neglected.  I  do  not  say 
that  people  should  not  improve  their  material 
fortunes,  but  still  there  is  something  else  that  must 
not  be  overlooked.  There  is  a  moral  nature,  the 
neglect  of  which  means  moral  death. 

When  the  pulse  beats  high  and  we  are  flushed 
with  youth  and  health  and  vigor,  when  all  goes  on 
prosperously,  and  success  seems  almost  to  antici- 
pate our  wishes,  then  we  feel  not  the  want  of  the 
consolation  of  a  religion;  but  when  fortune  frowns, 
or  friends  forsake  us,  when  sorrow  or  sickness 
comes  upon  us,  then  it  is  that  the  superiority  of  the 
pleasure  of  religion  is  established  over  those  of 
dissipation  and  vanity,  which  are  ever  apt  to  fly 
from  us  when  we  are  most  in  want  of  their  aid. 
The  man  who  believes  there  is  no  God,  no  im- 
mortality, and  that  when  he  dies  he  will  melt  into 
the  earth  to  be  seen  no  more,  like  the  snow  flake 
sinking  into  the  ocean,  certainly  wants  one  of  the 
most  wonderful  stimulants  to  intellectual  and  moral 
advancement. 

Weary  human  nature  lays  its  head  on  the  bosom 
of  the  Divine  Word,  or  it  has  no  where  to  lay  its 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  43. 

head.  Tremblers  on  the  verge  of  the  dark  and 
terrible  valley  which  parts  the  land  of  the  living 
from  the  untried  hereafter,  take  this  hand  of  hu- 
man tenderness,  yet  of  God-like  strength,  or  they 
totter  into  the  gloom  without  stop  or  stay.  I  had 
at  times  been  considering  life  from  a  moral  stand- 
point, but  to  me  religion  seemed  very  strange, 
things  had  changed  very  materially  sincje  the  ush- 
ering in  the  Christian  era,  and  the  question  was, 
If  Christ  had  been  the  real  Christ,  as  was  claimed, 
and  had  established  his  church,  as  we  are  told  he 
did,  who  had  the  right  to  change  it?  That  the 
mode  of  procedure  was  different  than  1800  years 
before,  must  be  noticeable  to  even  the  casual  ob- 
server; hence,  when  I  found  a  people  that  were 
worshiping  under  the  system  established  accord- 
ing to  the  Holy  Writ,  I  united  with  them,  and  I 
cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  repented  that  act;  in 
fact,  am  satisfied  it  was  one  proper  step  of  my 
life.  This  did  not,  as  many  seem  to  think  it  does, 
lessen  the  pleasure  of  life  in  the  least.  I  was 
naturally  endowed  with  a  desire  to  have  sport, 
and  when  any  practical  joking  was  going  on,  my 
name  might  always  be  figured  in  the  list,  and 
sometimes  such  action  has  caused  me  more  or  less 
trouble. 

One  instance  I  remember  particularly,  which 
occurred  along  in  the  Spring,  while  I  was  yet  attend- 
ing school  there,  and  it  came  near  proving  seri- 
ous. Pete  Brown,  a  fellow  that  boarded  at  the 
same  place  I  did,  and  I  went  down  to  the  express 


44-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

office  one  evening  after  dark  to  get  a  valuable 
package.  We  noticed  as  we  passed  the  railroad 
depot  that  there  was  one  of  those  three-wheeled 
railroad  tricycles  sitting  there,  which  was  natural- 
ly very  tempting  to  us.  We  proceeded  to  the  ex- 
press office,  secured  the  package  and  was  return- 
ing; but  on  again  reaching  the  depot,  the  tricycle 
still  sitting  there,  we  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion. The  agent  was  in  the  office,  and  the  tricycle 
belonged  to  a  friend  of  his,  that  was  also  in  the 
office,  having  run  down  from  a  neighboring  station 
fpr  a  visit.  They  were  talking  and  laughing,  and 
without  further  preliminaries,  we  threw  the  package 
into  an  empty  box-car,  pulled  the  wheeled  machine 
out  onto  the  track,  and  both  got  on.  It  moved 
off  so  nicely  we  were  delighted,  and  before  we  had 
gone  half  a  mile  it  seemed  out  of  the  question  to 
turn  around,  so  we  kept  on  going.  After  getting 
out  a  mile  or  two,  the  idea  struck  us  to  proceed  to 
the  next  town,  which  we  did. 

Whatever  prompted  us  to  do  such  a  thing  I  can- 
not now  imagine,  but  all  thoughts  of  the  package 
and  the  forlorn  box-car  were  forgotten.  After 
going  several  miles,  the  novelty  of  the  business 
began  to  wear  off,  but  we  pressed  on  until  we 
reached  the  point  we  started  for.  Then  came  the 
return,  which  was  not  near  so  pleasant.  We  kept 
changing  off,  one  working  the  handles  awhile  and 
then  the  other,  but  it  was  very  evident  that  it  was 
getting  far  into  the  night,  and  the  changes  more 
frequent  every  mile,  and  besides  we  were  cold. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  45. 

By  this  time  we  commenced  to  regret  our  adven- 
ture, and  wish  we  were  at  home  in  bed;  however, 
by  persistent  effort  we  reached  the  town  about 
midnight,  and  then  the  thought  of  the  package 
began  to  dawn  upon  us.  The  depot  was  locked 
up,  and  every  one  gone,  and  on  going  to  the  box- 
car where  we  had  deposited  our  treasure,  our 
hearts  almost  ceased  to  beat,  *  *  *  it  was  gone. 
What  could  we  do  or  say  to  claim  the  .package!  if 
taken  by  the  agent,  would  but  be  to  give  the  snap 
away,  and  if  stolen,  what  should  we  do,  as  we 
were  cautioned  to  be  careful  with  it.  Although 
we  searched  and  searched  for  the  lost  package,  it 
was  worse  than  folly,  and  finally  went  home  sad- 
der but  much  wiser.  What  could  we  tell  the 
folks  that  had  sent  us  for  the  package?  Scheme 
as  we  might,  there  seemed  to  be  no  outlet,  unless 
the  package  was  cheap  enough  that  we  could 
afford  to  duplicate  it. 

Next  morning  we  answered  the  call  for  break- 
fast, looking  about  as  sneaking  as  ft  is  possible 
for  any  one  with  a  human  face  to  look,  and  feeling, 
if  it  were  possible,  even  worse  than  we  looked. 
There  was  nothing  under  the  sun  that  we  could 
do  but  explain;  the  expressman  held  our  receipt 
for  the  package  and  there  was  no  use  to  deny  get- 
ting it.  We  told  the  whole  truth  about  the  mat- 
ter, and  "we  were  sick  of  our  job,"  and  all  that; 
but  that  did  not  replace  the  package,  and  upon 
inquiry  we  found  it  far  more  valuable  than  our 
limited  funds  could  stand  to  replace.  There  was 


46.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

yet  but  one  hope,  and  that  was,  the  young  lady 
that  had  sent  us  for  the  package  was  a  very  inti- 
mate friend  of  the  agent,  and  we  appealed  to  her. 
I  presume  now  she  wished  to  teach  us  a  lesson, 
for  she  did  not  give  us  much  satisfaction,  but 
nevertheless  I  am  confident  she  went  and  had  an 
interview  with  the  station  agent,  when  we  were 
not  aware  of  it,  for  we  were  informed,  though  not 
directly,  that  the  agent  had  the  package.  She 
insisted  that  we  go  and  ask  him  for  it,  which-, 
after  waiting  all  day,  we  reluctantly  complied 
with  her  request.  The  agent  was  wrathy,  and 
we  were  frightened.  He  cornered  us  up  and 
made  us  confess  that  we  took  the  wheel,  which 
did  not  belong  to  us,  and  he  further  informed 
us  that  the  wheel  was  broken;  in  short,  he  gave 
us  such  a  talk  that  the  hair  was  standing  al- 
most perpendicular  on  our  heads  when  we  sneaked 
out  of  the  depot  without  the  package.  He  de- 
manded much  more  money  than  we  could  pay, 
and  besides*  threatened  to  have  us  arrested.  "We 
told  the  man  we  were  boarding  with,  he  took  the 
matter  in  hand,  and  finally  we  allowed  it  to  run 
along  until  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the  marshal, 
when  a  compromise  was  effected  by  our  paying  a 
certain  amount.  We  then  breathed  natural  again 
for  the  first  time  in  two  or  three  days.  This  is  one 
of  the  most  valuable  lessons  I  have  ever  learned, 
and  it  has  stuck  to  me  thus  far  through  life,  and 
I  believe,  though  I  should  live  to  count  many 
and  many  moons  yet,  I  would  never  be  accused 
of  taking  what  did  not  belong  to  me,  even  for 
sport,  where  such  serious  trouble  might  result. 


CHAPTER  V. 

DEATH    ANGEL    ENTERS    THE    FAMILY. 

Summer  soon  came  now,  and  instead  of  rush- 
ing out  and  surprising  the  civilized  world  by  my 
startling  maneuvers,  I  was  forced  to  return  to  the 
farm.  Oh,  but  it  was  tough  to  go  to  work  again, 
those  long,  hot  spring  days,  after  living  in  town 
and  doing  but  little.  It  was  so  much  harder  to 
work  than  it  had  been  before,  but  time  wore 
things  back  into  their  usual  channel,  and  life  was 
something  as  it  had  been  in  other  days.  Being 
forced  to  return  to  the  farm,  my  city  pride  left 
me,  and  I  again  began  to  visit  the  McGinnis  ranch, 
with  as  much  pleasure,  or  nearly  so,  as  of  old. 
Soon  after  my  return  from  school,  however,  an 
incident  took  place  which  cast  a  shadow  over  my 
life,  a  shadow  which  can  never  be  raised. 

Though  it  was  but  what  is  inevitable  in  human 
existence,  yet  we  were  wholly  unprepared  on  this 
occasion.  The  cause  of  the  trouble  was  that  the 
death  angel  entered  the  family  and  claimed  one  of 
its  inmates.  What  a  strange  occurrence  it  is,  to  be 
sure,  and  while  it  is  sometimes  so  sudden  and  un- 
expected, sometimes  lingering  for  years  at  the 
very  threshold,  yet  the  wise  men  of  our  land  are 


48-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

unable  to  solve  its  mysteries.  One  of  our  writers 
once  said,  in  writing  on  this  subject:  "Life  is  a 
journey;  the  end  is  nearing  when  the  still  monster 
is  wont  to  approach.  Life  is  a  race,  the  goal  will 
soon  be  reached;  it  is  a  voyage,  the  port  will  soon 
be  in  sight;  are  we  not  justifiable  in  saying,  time  is 
but  a  narrow  isthmus  between  two  extremes;  we 
are  all  going.  How  many  things  you  have  already 
left  behind! — the  old  home,  friends,  parents,  scenes 
of  childhood  and  early  years!  How  much  of  the 
way  you  have  passed  over!  You  will  never  return 
to  the  place  from  whence  you  started!  You  are 
going  on  and  on,  always  from  your  early  years! 
It  is  a  startling  thought  that  our  business  will  soon 
be  left  behind;  that  our  work  will  soon  be  done, 
and  that  we  shall  leave  this  stage  of  being — leave 
it  forever, — our  homes  and  cares,  and  all  the  in- 
terests that  engage  us  here,  and  never,  never  more 
come  back  in  this  condition  again." 

In  meditating  upon  this  thought  we  call  to  mind 
another  quotation  on  the  same  subject,  which 
reads:  "Life  is  like  a  summer's  residence  at  a 
bathing  place.  When  you  arrive,  you  first  become 
acquainted  with  those  who  have  been  there  for 
some  weeks,  and  who  leave  you  in  a  few  days. 
This  separation  is  painful.  Then  you  turn  your 
attention  to  those  who  arrived  with  you.  With 
them  you  live  a  good  while  and  become  really 
intimate.  But  soon  the  most  of  these  go  also, 
and  you  are  left  lonely  with  those  that  came  about 
the  time  you  were  going  away.  You  have  but  lit- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  49. 

tit  to  do  with  them.  Some  stay  long,  some  but  a 
short  time  in  this  world.  Some  souls  blossom  al- 
most as  soon  as  they  enter  this  life,  and  then  they 
depart.  The  flower  that  opens  when  it  breaks 
from  the  ground,  and  then  dies,  is  an  emblem  of 
the  infant  that  dies.  Violets  are  the  children  and 
youth  who  finish  their  mission  near  life's  entrance 
and  then  depart. 

"But  every  life,  no  matter  how  short,  accom- 
plishes something.  An  infant,  a  prattling  child, 
dying  in  its  cradle,  will  live  again  in  the  better 
thoughts  of  those  who  loved  it,  and  play  its  part, 
through  them,  in  the  redeeming  actions  of  the 
world,  though  its  body  be  burned  to  ashes  or 
drowned  in  the  deepest  sea.  There  is  not  an 
angel  added  to  the  host  of  heaven,  but  does  its 
blessed  work  on  earth,  in  those  that  loved  it  here. 
Oh,  if  the  good  deeds  of  human  creatures  could 
be  traced  to  their  source,  how  beautiful  would 
even  death  appear!  How  much  charity,  mercy 
and  purified  affections  would  be  seen  to  arise  from 
beds  of  death! 

"When  death  strikes  down  the  innocent  and 
young,  to  every  fragile  form  from  which  he  lets 
the  panting  spirit  free,  a  hundred  virtues  arise  in 
shapes  of  mercy,  charity  and  love,  to  walk  the 
world  and  bless  it.  Of  every  tear  that  sorrowing 
mortals  shed  on  such  green  graves,  some  good  is 
born,  some  gentler  nature  comes.  In  the  destroy- 
er's steps  there  springs  up  bright  creations  that 
defy  his  power,  and  his  dark  path  becomes  a  way 


50.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

of  light  to  "heaven.  There  is  nothing  in  all  the 
earth  that  we  can  do  for  the  dead.  They  do 
not  need  us,  but  we  forever  and  forever  more  need 
them." 

What  a  memorable  epoch  in  the  history  of  a 
home  is  that  in  which  death  finds  his  first  entrance 
within  its  sacred  mclosures,  and  with  ruthless 
hand,  breaks  the  first  link  of  a  golden  chain  that 
creates  its  identity!  That  event  is  never  forgot- 
ten. It  may  be  the  first  born,  in  the  radiant  beauty 
of  youth,  or  the  babe  in  the  first  bursting  of  life's 
budding  loveliness,  or  a  father  in  the  midst  of  his 
anxious  cares,  or  the  mother  who  gave  light  and 
happiness  to  all  around  her, — whoever  it  is,  the 
first  death  makes  a  breach  there  which  no  subse- 
quent bereavement  can  equal.  New  feelings  are 
then  awakened;  a  new  order  of  associates  is  then 
commenced;  hopes  and  fears  are  then  aroused  that 
never  subside,  and  the  mysterious  web  of  family 
life  receives  the  hue  of  a  new  and  darker  thread. 

Most  of  us  have  stood  and  wrung  our  hands  at 
parting  with  some  one  who  will  never  more 
come  back  to  us  in  this  world,  but  such  partings 
and  memories  are  not  wholly  in  vain.  There  are 
things  back  of  us,  known  only  to  heaven,  which 
have  greatly  shaped  our  lives.  There  are  faces, 
and  the  pressure  of  hands,  and  snatches  of  song, 
and  the  light  of  long  closed  eyes,  and  the  far  dis- 
tant murmur  of  solemn  prayer,  which  we  treas- 
ure evermore.  There  ARE  those  with  faith  enough 
to  think  that  by  and  by  the  old  faces  will  be  seen 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  51. 

once  more,  the  loved  voices  heard  anew,  and  all 
the  lost  ones  will  be  once  more  found,  but  here 
the  horrible  shadow  of  doubt  flashes  across  my 
mind,  and  I  am  lost  in  its  mysteries. 

The  flower  fadeth,  but  the  seed  and  the  fruit 
remain;  and  this  teaches  us  there  is  nothing  to 
sadden  us  in  the  process  of  decay  in  nature  and 
vegetation.  This  is  preliminary  to  a  higher  growth. 
Our  present  life,  with  all  its  activities  and  enjoy- 
ments, is  but  the  flower  form  of  a  being  whose 
fruit  form  is  found  in  an  after  and  higher  life,  and 
decay  and  death  are  no  more  than  the  falling  of 
petals  from  the  well-set  fruit. 

Of  all  the  solemnities  of  which  the  mind  can 
conceive,  death  is  the  greatest.  There  may  be, 
here  and  there,  an  empty  heart  and  a  thoughtless 
brain,  across  which  no  meditations  pass  for  months, 
or  even  years;  but  these  are  exceptional  characters, 
and  leave  unaffected  the  truth  that  no  reflection 
comes  to  man  with  such  uniformity  and  power  as 
the  thought  that,  in  a  few  years,  we  shall  all  be 
far  away.  That  which  is  thus  universal  must  be 
for  the  common  good.  Death  comes  equally  to 
all,  and  makes  us  all  equal  when  he  comes.  The 
ashes  of  an  oak  in  the  chimney  are  no  epitaph  of 
the  tree;  it  tells  us  not  how  high  it  was,  how  large 
it  was,  or  what  flocks  it  sheltered  while  it  stood. 
The  fate  which  overtook  that  tree  is  a  fit  emblem 
of  death,  which,  in  its  restless  course,  levels  alike 
the  king  and  the  peasant,  the  wise  and  the  igno- 
rant, the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  old  and  the  young. 


52.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

This  world  is  the  subdued  and  vested  domain  of 
death.  The  history  of  the  past  is  a  record  of  the 
triumph  of  the  king  of  terrors.  In  all  lands  the 
generation  of  the  departed  outnumber  the  living, 
and  all  that  now  live  must  soon  taste  death. 
There  is  no  pathway  of  life  where  the  destroyer 
may  not  be  met  at  any  moment.  There  is  no 
home  from  which  the  grim  shadow  of  death  can 
be  shut  out.  The  bloom  of  youth,  the  strength  of 
manhood,  the  glory  of  age,  are  withered  in  his  icy 
breath,  as  the  late  flowers  wither  in  the  frost  of 
autumn. 

But  if  this  be  the  gateway  to  future  good,  why 
should  we  dread  it?  Were  we  deprived  of  all 
hopes  of  a  future  existence,  still  constituted  as  we 
are,  to  the  great  majority  of  us,  the  time  must 
come  when  even  annihilation  would  be  preferable 
to  continued  existence.  Could  we  always  live 
young,  in  the  possession  of  health,  strength  and 
friends,  the  case  might  be  different;  but  age  and 
infirmities  will  be  our  lot,  the  heart  will  grow 
weary  and  we  long  for  rest. 

In  all  the  returns  and  gatherings  of  earth  there 
are  some  missing.  Many  times  the  lost  are  more 
than  the  found.  The  further  we  go  on  the  jour- 
ney of  life,  the  fewer  of  the  friends  of  youth  are 
left  to  keep  us  company.  When  we  visit  a  former 
home  after  a  long  absence,  and  enquire  for  the 
friends  of  other  years,  we  are  told  of  one  and  an- 
other that  they  have  gone  the  way  whence  they 
will  not  return.  And,  as  time  passes  on,  we  are 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIAL.  53. 

all  getting  more  names  for  the  roll  of  our  acquaint- 
ances, whose  places  are  vacant,  who  gather  with 
us  no  more,  who  answer  not  when  their  names  are 
called.  The  crowd  presses  on  with  hurried  and 
heedless  tread  in  the  very  path  out  of  which  men 
are  constantly  passing  from  time  into  eternity, 
sometimes  at  a  single  step. 

The  flame  of  life  burns  so  feebly  upon  the  secret 
altar  of  the  heart  that  it  can  be  put  out  by  a  sud- 
den jar  or  a  single  breath.  The  partition  between 
us  and  the  unseen  world  is  as  thin  as  the  garments 
that  clothe  our  flesh,  and  as  easily  pierced  as  the 
bubbles  that  float  on  the  waves.  As  life  is  thus 
critical,  any  word  may  be  our  last,  any  farewell, 
even  amid  glee  and  merriment,  may  be  forever. 
If  this  truth  were  but  burned  into  our  conscious- 
ness, would  it  not  give  a  new  meaning  to  all  our 
human  relationship?  How  much  more  kindness 
would  there  be  in  the  world  were  this  thought  acted 
upon. 

Human  friends  may  go  hand  in  hand  to  the  very 
brink  of  the  cold  river  that  rolls  between  this  and 
the  unseen  land.  They  may  do  much  to  soothe 
and  sustain  each  other  as  the  last  hour  draws  near. 
But  there  is  a  point  beyond  which  human  help 
cannot  go.  Every  one  of  us  must  advance  to 
meet  the  great  and  final  foe,  with  no  human  hand 
on  which  to  lean.  We  must  turn  away  our  faces 
from  our  earthly  friends,  and  pass  in  under  the 
deep  shadow  of  eternity  without  their  company. 


54-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Each  individual  must  stand  exposed  to  the  dread 
arrow  of  the  great  destroyer,  with  none  to  turn 
aside  the  shaft. 

We  believe  that  life  was  made  to  be  enjoyed, 
and  he  who  would  dampen  all  pleasures,  with 
mournful  reflections  on  the.  fleeting  nature  of 
earthly  enjoyments,  displays  but  little  wisdom,  to 
say  the  least.  But  still  there  are  times  when,  as 
reasonable  creatures,  it  becomes  us  to  contem- 
plate that  solemn  moment  when  for  the  soul,  time 
ends  and  eternity  begins.  Our  friends  may  stretch 
out  their  hands  to  keep  us  back,  but  no  entreaties 
on  their  part  can  change  the  course  of  events. 
They  might  offer  large  retainers,  but  death  accepts 
no  fee.  The  breath  will  fail,  the  eyes  will  close, 
the  heart  will  cease  to  beat.  •  You  may  hang  the 
couch  with  gorgeous  tapistry,  but  death  respects 
no  finery. 

We,  as  a  multitude,  are  hurrying  along;  we  are 
chained  to  the  chariot  of  revolving  time;  there  is 
no  bridling  the  steed  nor  leaping  from  the  chariot, 
and  some  are  even  so  burdened  with  the  sorrows 
of  life,  that  they  rashly  invoke  the  presence  of  the 
death  angel,  and  of  their  own  will,  lay  aside  the 
robes  of  flesh. 

Life,  no  doubt,  should  be  a  scene  of  happiness; 
but  largely  from  our  own  fault,  it  is  true,  all  know 
that  it  abounds  with  many  trying  scenes.  Won- 
derful is  the  power  of  death  to  disarm  resentment, 
to  kindle  anew  the  fires  of  love  and  friendship 
in  the  heart.  When  the  veil  has  been  drawn  be- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  55. 

'tween  us  and  the  object  of  our  regard,  how  quick 
sighted  do  we  become  to  their  merits,  and  how 
bitterly  do  we  remember  words,  or  even  looks,  of 
unkindness,  which  may  have  escaped  in  our  inter- 
course with  them.  How  .careful  should  such 
thoughts  render  us  in  the  fulfillment  of  offices  of 
affection  which  may  yet  be  in  our  power  to  per- 
form! Who  can  tell  how  soon  the  moment  may 
arise  when  repentance  cannot  be  followed  by  rep- 
aration! Probably,  if  we  were  to  think  more  upon 
this  subject,  not  in  a  somber,  melancholy  sort  of 
way,  but  as  becomes  rational  beings,  we  would  do 
many  things  differently  than  we  do  at  present." 

'Twas  the  first  time  I  had  ever  known  real  sor- 
row, and  for  this  reason,  among  others,  I  was  not 
fully  prepared  for  what  took  place.  My  oldest 
sister,  Nellie,  was  several  years  my  senior,  and 
had  been  the  one  I  was  wont  to  acquaint  with  my 
minor  troubles,  and  when  in  doubt  I  always  went 
to  her,  and,  although  she  had  been  married  for  a 
number  of  years,  her  home  was  not  far  from  burs, 
and,  regardless  of  how  busy  she  might  be  with 
the  affairs  of  life,  she  always  had  a  willingness  to 
listen  to  my  difficulties,  and  never  failed  to  have 
words  of  comfort  and  encouragement  to  offer.  In 
short,  she  had  almost  spoiled  me.  I  would  not 
think  of  taking  up  a  study  without  first  consulting 
her,  and  no  matter  what  my  opinion  might  have 
been,  her  decision,  with  me,  was  final.  I  acted 
'upon  her  advice,  and  though  many  years  have  now 
passed  since  she  crossed  over  to  the  other  shore, 


56.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

I  wish  I  might  be  able  to  council  with  her  yet,  get 
advice  from  her  and  profit  thereby.  Had  she 
lived,  no  doubt  my  life  would  have  been  different, 
my  career  would  have  been  less  checkered,  and 
my  existence  more  pleasant. 

The  remark  is  common,  that  death  always  seems 
to  call  upon  the  best  first,  and  while  we  sometimes 
hear  this  questioned,  I  hardly  think  it  could  have 
been  in  this  case,  at  least  it  was  r>~t  with  rne. 
Sometimes,  immediately  following  her  deat1.  ,  I 
would  find  myself  lost  in  meditation,  trying  to 
solve  the  mysteries  connected  with  death,  and  why 
could  not  some  one  else  have  been  taken  in  her 
place.  I  felt  that  I  would  have  willingly  acted  as 
a  substitute,  but  the  angel  that  brought  the  mes- 
sage did  not  leave  it  to  our  option,  nor  did  he 
question  us  as  to  who  should  answer  the  summons. 
When  thinking  over  it,  for  perhaps  an  hour,  and 
having  reached  the  maximum  of  my  meditative 
powers,  I  would  find  myself  driven  completely  to 
the  wall,  and  with  bewildered  thoughts  I  could 
but  exclaim,  My  God,  where  is  the  justice  in  this! 

She  was  only  sick  a  few  days,  but  despite  every 
effort  that  kind  hands  or  loving  hearts  could  do, 
even  the  medical  skill  of  the  age,  she  gradually 
grew  worse.  .  Hope  as  we  might,  it  all  seemed 
purely  in  vain,  and  when  for  a  tirr.e  we  imagined 
the  worst  was  over,  it  afterwards  transpired  that 
death  was  but  withholding  his  stern  hand  appar- 
ently to  increase  our  burning  anxiety.  Living 
and  hoping  under  such  circumstances  soon  be- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  57. 

comes  terrible,  at  least  so  it  was  with  me,  for  I  do 
not  believe  it  is  possible  for  the  feeling  between 
sister  and  brother  to  be  stronger  than  was  the 
feeling  that  existed  between  Nellie  and  I.  Finally 
we  were  forbidden  to  go  "into  the  room;  it  was  only 
then  that  I  began  to  realize  that  the  worst  was 
at  hand,  and  the  thought  that  I  must  never  see 
her  again  in  her  rational  mind,  seemed  almost  un- 
bearable. All  the  afternoon  we  lived  in  this  awful 
suspense,  then  night  came,  and  with  it  a  terrible 
storm;  it  really  seemed  that  the  death  angel  had 
combined  with  the  elements  to  make  our  existence 
as  terrible  as  it  could  be.  The  blinding  lightning, 
the  horrible  peals  of  thunder,  and  the  rush  and 
roar  of  the  driving  hail  and  rain,  caused  an  un- 
common and  frightening  noise,  but  it  disturbed 
not  the  pale  face  and  quiet  form  upon  the  couch 
that  was  so  soon  to  be  the  scene  of  death.  All 
hope  of  her  reviving  was  at  last  given  up,  and  the 
family  permitted  to  gather  around  her.  What 
then  followed  is  as  fresh  in  my  memory  as  though 
it  were  but  a  few  months  ago,  instead  of  years. 
The  fact  was  only  too  evident  that  life  was 
taking  its  departure;  it  seemed  my  blood  stood 
still,  I  could  not  realize  that  the  surrounding 
circumstances  were  a  reality.  She  spoke  a  few 
words  of  advice,  addressing  them  more  particu- 
larly to  mother,  then  one  last,  longing  look  at  her 
husband,  and  all  was  over.  The  rain  still  con- 
tinued to  beat  against  the  side  of  the  house,  the 
lightning  flashed  and  the  thunder  continued  its 


58.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

terrible  peals,  but  it  had  a  different  sound  to  us 
now.  I  do  not  believe  it  is  within  the  power 
of  even  death  to  strike  a  harder  blow  than  this 
was,  when  we  fully  realized  that  all  earthly  hope 
had  vanished.  From  that  hour  I  was  different;  I 
have  never  looked  upon  life  in  exactly  the  same 
light  since.  And  even  now,  sometimes  when  sit- 
ting alone  in  my  room,  when  the  storm  is  howling 
without,  my  mind  runs  back  through  all  these  years, 
and  I  think  of  a  little  mound,  in  a  lonely  place, 
many  miles  away,  and  before  I  am  aware  of  the 
fact,  I  discover  a  silent  tear  stealing  down  my 
cheek,  in  reverence  to  that  thought. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ATTEND    SCHOOL    FOR   THE    PURPOSE    OF    MAS- 
TERING   SHORTHAND. 

In  the  State  of  Iowa,  located  on  one  of  its  beau- 
tiful, rolling  prairies,  stands  the  little  town  of 
Hardstudy.  From  every  point  of  compass  the  sur- 
rounding country  is  beautiful  to  behold.  The  in- 
habitants, about  three  thousand  in  number,  were 
of  the  middle  class,  honest,  or  at  least,  claimed 
to  be,  most  of  them  energetic,  and  hence  had  a 
thriving  little  village.  In  the  eastern  part  of  the 
little  burg,  located  on  a  slight  elevation,  stood  a 
college  building,  with  a  capacity  of  accommodating 
about  seven  or  eight  hundred  green  country  boys 
and  girls  each  year,  for  the  purpose  of  having 
their  intellectual  faculties  brushed  up  a  little,  pre- 
paring them,  as  most  of  them  presumed  when 
they  went  there,  for  coming  statesmen  or  world- 
startlers.  From  the  glowing  advertisements  that 
had  flooded  the  country  for  two  or  three  hundred 
miles  around,  in  every  direction,  most  of  those 
attending,  •  presumed  that  education  was  hanging 
around  on  bushes,  and  all  a  fellow  had  to  do  was 
to  pay  his  money,  pick  up  an  educntion,  have 
some  fun,  and  spring  into  life?s  arena  fully  equipped 


60.  THE   STENOGRAPHER 

to  meet  its  stern  realities.  Some  who  went  with 
these  expectations,  left  a  few  months  later,  poorer, 
sadder  and  wiser. 

As  stated  in  the  previous  chapter,  I  earned 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow  during  the  coming 
summer,  after  having  attended  school  in  the  vil- 
lage near  home.  My  aspirations  had  been  so  com- 
pletely mangled;  I  resolved  this  time  I  would 
make  a  strike  for  life,  so  decided  I  would  study 
shorthand  for  life  or  death.  I  had  my  eye  on  the 
above  mentioned  place,  and  after  considerable 
corresponding  with  the  profess_or  of  the  shorthand 
department,  resolved  to  cast  my  anchor  there  as 
soon  as  the  work  on  the  farm  would  permit,  and 
then  and  there  tangle  my  brain  up  with  the  mys- 
teries of  the  art.  The  opening  of  our  story  re- 
lates what  took  place  when  I  broke  the  news  to 
the  head  of  the  family.  It  did  not  take  a  Phila- 
delphia lawyer  to  discover  from  his  actions  that 
he  was  not  particularly  anxious  that  I  should  pur- 
sue this  course  of  study,  and  in  fact  discouraged 
it  in  every  way  possible;  but  I  had  been  studying 
over  the  subject  of  "farm  or  starve,"  for  so  long, 
that  I  had  about  concluded  to  take  chances  on 
the  latter  before  engage  in  agricultural  pursuits 
another  year.  One  of  the  greatest  drawbacks  to  a 
farmer  boy  when  living  at  home  is,  he  never  sees 
very  much  of  the  surplus  finance,  if  it  ever  happens 
there  is  any.  He  can  work  and  work,  raise  crops, 
stock  and  -pumpkins,  sell  them  for  a  good  price, 
but  what  good  does  it  do  him?  The  farm  is  car- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  6l. 

ried  on  under  the  co-operative  system,  the  head 
of  the  house  president,  secretary  and  treasurer, 
and  the  boys  the  employees;  or,  to  give  it  a  more 
modern  expression,  would  say,  he  is  the  grindee 
of  the  monopoly.  His  remuneration  consists  of 
his  board  and  clothes,  the  latter  depending  very 
materially  upon  the  success  of  the  bean  and  pump- 
kin crop.  Of  course  times  were  exceedingly  hard, 
as  they  always  are,  or  at  least  always  have  been 
since  I  was  old  enough  to  remember;  but  as  the 
fall  months  began  to  come,  arrangements  were 
planned  to  give  me  one  more  push  into  the  world. 
With  this  thought  in  mind  I  worked  hard,  for  I 
had  determined  it  would  be  the  last  work  I  should 
do  on  the  place  that  I  had  labored  on  all  my  life. 
Thus  far  in  life  it  has  been,  but  during  some  dis- 
couraging times  which  I  have  encountered  since 
then,  I  have  thought  my  complaints  were  not 
altogether  well  founded. 

Tom  and  I  had  many  pleasant  times  there,  and, 
as  is  the  case  with  every  human  being  who  will, 
we  had  our  associates.  I  might  here  casually 
mention  that  about  this  time,  Jennie  and  I  had  a 
"scrap,"  which  resulted  in  a  discontinuation  of 
my  visits  to  the  McGinnis  ranch  for  some  time 
previous  to  my  leaving  home.  Like  most  kids 
do,  we  "parted  forever,"  but  as  friends;  however, 
I  did  not  meet  her  iri  conversation  after  that  be- 
fore our  departure. 

The  folks  did  not  like  to  see  me  go,  especially 
mother,  for  while  I  had  not  positively  asserted  that 


62.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

I  was  turning  my  back  upon  the  farm,  everything 
went  to  show  that  such  were  my  intentions. 
Everyone  knows  what  the  preliminaries  are  prior 
to  one's  starting  to  school;  mine  was  no  exception; 
if  anything,  it  was  worse  than  the  average. 

There  were  two  or  three  going  to  Hardstudy  from 
the  neighboring  village  where  I  had  attended  school 
the  previous  winter,  about  the  same  time  I  did,  so 
we  partially  arranged  to  go  together.  One  fellow 
named  Samuel  Tough  had  arranged  to  occupy  the 
same  room  with  me  when  we  reached  the  place, 
but  owing  to  circumstances  he  left  one  day  before 
I  did. 

Sunday  morning  father  took  me  to  the  village, 
from  which  I  was  to  start  the  next  day  for  Hard- 
study.  One  of  my  girl  acquaintances  was  going 
at  the  same  time  also,  hence  we  arranged  matters 
accordingly.  •  As  tired  as  I  was  of  farm  life,  it 
was  not  an  easy  matter  to  leave,  under  the  circum- 
stances, but  being  of  a  superstitious  character  re- 
garding looking  back,  when  once  started,  I  kept 
my  face  straight  forward. 

We  were  to  take  the  train  at  an  early  hour  next 
morning,  t  vo  or  three  hours  before  day,  but  the 
train  was  late  and  we  waited  a  long  time.  After 
going  about  sixty  miles  we  reached  the  point  where 
we  were  to  change  cars  and  take  another  road/ 
but  we  had  missed  connections.  Neither  of  us 
had  ever  traveled  any,  and  there  was  nothing  but 
freight  trains  until  the  next  day.  Twas  a  shabby 
little  place,  and  nothing  to  interest  one  at  all,  so  we 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  63. 

resolved  not  to  remain  over  night  in  the  place. 
There  was  a  through  freight  coining  along  about 
dusk  that  night,  and  for  the  want  of  better  judg- 
ment we  decided  to  take  that.  We  did,  and  we 
were  extremely  sorry;  reached  Hardstudy  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  walked  a  mile  or 
more  to  a  hotel,  found  they  only  had  room  for  one, 
so  I  went  on  by  myself  to  another  place. 

Next  morning  about  nine  o'clock  I  meandered 
out  to  find  the  object  of  my  search,  the  school 
building.  About  half  a  mile  out,  I  beheld  what 
was  to  be  my  place  of  existence  for  a  few  months, 
the  exact  time  I  did  not  know.  I  did  not  seem 
to  have  taken  into  consideration  that  there  was  a 
tremendous  lot  of  hard  studying  connected  with 
shorthand.  I  was  thinking  more  of  h  aving  a  good 
time  and  then,  starting  in  life  for  myself. 

Once  in  life  fortune  favored  me,  for  the  first 
person  I  struck  was  Sam  Tough;  he  had  been 
there  and  taken  in  the  situation  and  knew  the  lay 
of  the  land.  When  I  left  for  the  place  I  had 
quite  a  wad  of  ducats,  the  most  I  had  ever  had  at 
one  time  in  my  life,  and  I  guarded  it  with  an 
eagle  eye,  for  I  was  not  sure  where  the  next  was 
to  come  from.  Sam  had  arranged  to  board  in 
the  building,  so  of  course  I  should  do  the  same. 
The  first  pass  he  took  me  into  the  proprietor's 
office  and  told  him  I  wanted  board  for  a  term. 
"Twenty  dollars,"  says  Mr.  Proprietor,  and  I 
grasped  the  wad,  paid  him  and  got  my  receipt. 
Then  we  went  to  look  for  the  shorthand  "boss," 


64.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

told  him  my  errand.  Thirty-five  dollars  for  first 
term,  and  I  paid  him.  He  also  gave  me  a  list  of 
books  I  was  to  get,  which  I  immediately  proceed- 
ed to  obtain.  Room  to'pay  for,  and  coal  to  buy! 
my,  how  my  currency  was  melting!  It  was  very 
evident  they  understood  that  much  of  thjeir  busi- 
ness, viz:  get  the  bulk  of  a  fellow's  pile  before  he 
had  time  to  spend  it  down  town. 

Sam  had  been  on  track  of  a  room,  but  all  he 
could  turn  up  was  a  dirty  room  in  a  building  called 
"The  Students'  Home."  The  words  had  a  sort  of 
soothing  influence,  but  they  were  as  full  of  deceit 
as  an  egg  is  full  of  meat.  It  was  a  square  build- 
ing containing  twelve  rooms,  each  room  supposed 
to  be  occupied  by  two  students,  making  twenty- 
four  of  us  in  the  building,  but  it  was  an  awful  des- 
olate place.  The  rooms  were  like  stalls  in  a  barn, 
still,  they  answered  the  purpose,  and  rooms  were 
very  scarce,  for  the  school  was  large  and  the  town 
small.  Sam  said  it  was  the  best  we  could  do  now, 
so  we  engaged  it  for  one  term.'  We  had  the  north- 
west room  on  the  ground  floor,  the  worst  room  in 
the  building,  and  as  cold  as  a  summer  kitchen; 
but,  nevertheless,  we  moved  in  and  entered  upon 
our  new  sphere  of  existence,  for  such  it  might 
well  be  called.  Imagine  twenty-four  boys  in  a 
building  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  col- 
lege, no  one  to  watch  them.  To  tell  the  story  in 
a  tew  words,  it  was  never  quiet. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  first  day,  I  went  up  and 
made  my  start  at  shorthand,  commencing  of 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  65. 

course,  on  the  alphabet.  It  did  not  take  long  to 
learn  it,  but  my  fingers  were  so  stiff  from  hard 
work,  and  my  brain  so  inactive  and  obtuse  that  I 
made  very  slow  progress  when  it  came  to  speed. 
The  master  of  ceremonies  told  me  it  would  be 
necessary  for  me  to  learn  to  write  the  alphabet  at 
least  three  times  per  minute  before  going  any  fur- 
ther. I  did  not  do  much  the  first  afternoon,  but 
learn  the  alphabet;  next  morning,  I  went  up,  made 
the  letters  satisfactory  and  then  went  home,  or  to 
the  "den,"  as  we  commonly  called  it,  and  began 
working  up  my  speed.  I  worked  tolerably  well 
until  along  in  the  afternoon;  I  thought  I  was  get- 
ting in  pretty  fair  shape,  and  imagined  I  would  be 
a  court  reporter  in  a  few  weeks.  There  was  no 
question  in  my  own  mind  but  what  my  success 
warranted  the  impression  that  I  was  doing  fine, 
and  my  aspirations  broke  forth  afresh.  About  4 
p.  m.,  with  the  dignity  and  confidence  in  self, 
presumably  possessed  by  a  military  officer,  I  pro- 
ceeded to  the  place  of  trial.  The  man  at  the  helm 
of  the  shorthand  department  took  me  into  a  room 
by  myself,  placed  me  in  a  chair,  took  out  his  watch 
and  said,  Go!  I  went,  but  owing  to  the  state  of  ex- 
citement under  which  I  was  laboring,  it  seemed  the 
wheels  of  intellect  were  locked,  and  those  bruised 
up  fingers  refused  to  get  in  their  work.  Time  was 
called,  minute  up,  perspiration  running  down  my 
forehead,  and  there  before  me  lay  the  paper  with 
the  most  outlandish  looking  scrawls  thereon  that 
human  eyes  ever  witnessed,  when  they  had  been 


66.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

made  with  the  intention  of  being  anything  of  an 
intelligent  nature.  I  had  worried  about  one  and 
a  half  times  over  the  alphabet.  He  looked  dis- 
appointed, and  J.  know  I  felt  that  way;  he  sug- 
gested that  perhaps  I  was  a  little  excited,  had  bet- 
ter try  again.  We  took  another  turn  for  sixty 
seconds;  this  time  resulted  a  little  better  than  the 
time  before,  but  nothing  near  three  times  per  min- 
ute, so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  return  to 
the  den,  and  once  more  enter  into  secret  deliber- 
ation, with  a  view  of  becoming  more  accustomed 
to  the  peculiarities  of  the  art. 

I  have  since  learned,  many  times,  that  the  ex- 
citement and  failure  made  at  that  time  was  but  a 
foretaste  of  what  a  stenographer  must  experience 
in  this  very  regard.  Excitement  of  the  body  ma- 
terially retards  quick  action  of  the  brain,  and  for 
this  very  reason  a  great  many  stenographers,  just 
starting  out,  make  a  failure  on  their  initiatory 
trial  for  a  position.  To-do  good  work,  and  write 
rapidly,  one  must  be  perfectly  composed,  regard- 
less of  the  surrounding  circumstances,  and,  if  there 
is  ever  a  time  when  we  must  have  an  abundance  of 
self-confidence,  self-will  and  determination,  it  is 
when  we  are  on  a  trial  of  this  kind. 

By  the  next  morning,  continued  effort  had  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  up  a  more  direct  line  of  connec- 
tion between  brain  and  fingers,  and  once  more  en- 
tering the  private  chamber  of  his  royal  highness, 
succeeded  in  crossing  the  three  times  per  minute 
line,  and  was  given  some  further  principles  to  di- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  67. 

gest.  After  having,  in  a  manner,  conquered  them, 
I  was  started  in  the  primer,  and  given  a  page  to 
transcribe  from  long  hand  to  shorthand,  using 
what  principles  that  had  been  introduced.  If 
memory  proves  true,  this  was  about  the  third  day 
after  our  advent  to  the  place,  and  new  landmarks 
becoming  somewhat  familiar,  working  over  a  desk 
became  a  little  more  pleasant,  and  the  crooked 
marks  were  slowly  making  an  impression  on  the 
inner  portion  of  my  skull.  I  prepared  the  trans- 
cript, and  thought  it  in  pretty  fair  shape,  being 
very  careful  in  the  preparation  of  same,  but  upon 
going  up  to  have  it  corrected,  the  corrections  be- 
ing made  with  red  ink,  it  was  hard  to  tell,  after  he 
had  finished  working  with  it,  which  was  the  original, 
the  red  marks  or  the  black,  they  were  about  equal 
in  number.  This  made  me  feel  discouraged,  but 
I  tried  again,  taking  even  more  pains  this  time 
than  at  fiast,  but  the  red  ink  pen  made  another 
desperate  slaughter,  and  I  went  home  disappoint- 
ed, discouraged  and  home-sick.  I  had  about 
come  to  the  conclusion  I  could  never  be  a  short- 
hand writer  anyway,  and  wished  I  had  never  come 
there.  As  the  close  of  the  day  was  approaching. 
I  would  wonder  how  Tom  was  getting  along,  if 
mother  was  sorry  I  had  left  home,  if  the  cows 
were  all  at  home,  where  the  old  farm  dog  was, 
and  all  this,  until  I  felt  as  though  farming  was  not 
so  bad  after  all. 

It  is  never  all  bad  without  a  little  good,  and 
Sam  was  one  of  those  jolly  fellows  that  rarely  ever 
became  discouraged,  and  his  presence  assisted 
very  materially  in  arousing  my  down-trodden  feel- 
ings. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THERE'S  SOME  SUNSHINE  IN  THE  DARK- 
EST LIVES. 

Sam  was  endeavoring  to  master  what  was  there 
called  the  "commercial  course,"  consisting  of 
book-keeping,  penmanship,  etc.,  but  he  did  not 
at  all  take  kindly  to  study;  in  fact  the  only  thing 
he  cared  much  about  was  sport,  and  he  had  fully 
his  share  of  that.  He  was  very  rusty  in  mathe- 
matics, miserable  penman,  and  butchered  orthog- 
raphy up  in  the  most  cruel  and  outrageous  man- 
ner; under  these  circumstances,  I  thought  if  he 
could  ever  become  an  efficient  book-keeper,  I 
should  certainly  be  able  to  make  at  least  an  apol- 
ogy for  a  stenographer.  We  arranged  that  we 
should  alternately  rise  first  in  the  morning  and 
kindle  the  fire;  this  plan  worked  very  well  for  a 
time.  After  awhile  Sam  seemed  to  be  experiencing 
an  enormous  amount  of  difficulty  with  the  mathe- 
matical part  of  his  studies,  so  we  agreed  that  when 
it  came  my  morning  to  manufacture  a  .fire,  we 
would  both  arise  at  once,  and  while  he  did  the 
necessary  with  the  stove,  I  would  solve  some  of 
his  perplexing  mathematical  stringencies.  Under 
this  regime  at  the  den,  we  labored  for  some  time. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIAL.  69. 

After  a  few  days  of  having  my  work  scraped 
over  with  the  read  ink  pen,  I  began  to  get  onto 
the  racket  a  little,  and  was,  in  the  course  of  about 
a  week,  introduced  to  the  type-writer.  Strange 
it  may  seem,  I  took  much  more  kindly  to  this, 
and  experienced  very  little  difficulty,  other  than 
missing  about  half  of  the  words  when  attempting 
to  spell  them  correctly;  this  trouble,  however,  I 
was  informed  that  most  every  one  encountered 
when  starting.  Then  I  entered  the  primary  class 
and  commenced  to  take  dictation,  and  here  is 
where  I  made  -one  of  the  worst  blunders  with  the 
work.  I  imagined  that  I  must  write  just  as  rapidly 
as  the  others,  whether  I  should  ever  be  able  to 
read  it  or  not;  but  every  stenographer  who  has 
ever  had  an  extended  experience  can  readily  under- 
stand the  error  in  this.  I  am  inclined  to  believe 
that  a  great  many  make  a  mistake  in  this,  when 
entering  a  class  that  has  a  few  weeks  the  start  of 
them,  to  endeavor  to  be  up  with  the  best  of  them, 
laboring  under  the  impression  that  time  will  teach 
them  to  read  their  notes  readily,  but  a  sadder 
mistake  could  never  be  made  by  a  stenographic 
aspirant.  The  same  principle  will  hold  good  in 
typewriting  as  well  as  shorthand;  be  accurate,  get 
what  you  do  get  so  you  can  read  it,  and  speed 
will  come  of  its  own  accord.  I  did  not  invest 
much  time  in  reading  my  notes,  but  studied  some 
on  the  principles,  some  on  orthography,  practiced 
penmanship  a  little  and  commenced  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  the  boys,  the  latter  occupying 


70.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

much  more  of  my  time  than  it  should.  While 
there  is  no  question  but  what  fun  is  all  right  in  its 
place,  even  while  one  is  attending  school,  yet  I 
am  now  convinced,  and  was  at  the  end  of  three 
months,  that  I  had  invested  entirely  too  much 
time  in  sport. 

Sam  was  a  handsome  young  fellow,  dressed  much 
better  than  the  average  student  at  such  a  school, 
and  of  course,  the  girls  there,  as  a  great  many  of 
them  do  everywhere,  judge  a  man  principally 
by  his  clothes.  Near  the  college  building  stood  a 
large  dormitory,  the  ground  floor  being  occupied 
by  girls  and  the  upper  floor  by  boys.  It  was 
against  the  rules  of  the  establishment  for  the  boys 
to  visit  the  lower  rooms  after  six  o'clock,  but  Sam 
was  not  to  be  baffled  by  a  little  thing  like  this. 
In  the  corner  room  there  were  two  girls,  one  of 
them  what  we  might  term  real  pretty,  the  other  one 
only  moderate,  but  that  Sam  was  very  favorably  im- 
pressed with  one  of  them  was  evident  from  his 
actions  when  he  passed  the  room,  and  from  her 
copious  smiles,  it  was  equally  as  true  she  believed 
in  reciprocity  in  this  regard.  What  an  elegant 
opportunity  to  play  a  practical  joke!  I  could  not 
let  it  pass;  so  getting  a  fellow  to  write  in  a  fine 
hand,  something  similar  to  the  handwriting  of  a 
lady,  I  fixed  up  the  note  and  addressed  it  to  Sam, 
signing  it  in  such  a  manner  that  he  would  know, 
or  think,  at  least,  that  it  was  written  by  the  girl 
in  the  corner  room,  and  invited  him  to  call  that 
afternoon,  it  being  Saturday.  The  note  was  prompt- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  71. 

ly  mailed,  and  equally  as  promptly  received  by 
Sam,  as  he  was  usually  loitering  around  town  Sat- 
urdays. He  bit  without  a  kick,  never  mistrusted 
anything,  and  did  not  a,wake  to  the  fact  that  he 
had  been  the  subject  of  a  joke,  until  informed 
direct  by  the  object  of  the  visit,  but  the  girl  was 
not  at  all  displeased  with  his  visit  and  they  be- 
came acquainted,  yet  to  this  day  neither  of  them, 
to  my  knowledge,  knows  who  the  author  of  the 
note  was.  Sam  did  not  want  to  leave  at  six,  but 
did,  I  presume,  with  the  -understanding  that  he 
would  call  around  later  and  stand  and  talk  through 
the  open  window.  Whether  this  arrangement  had 
been  previously  agreed  upon  or  not,  I  cannat  say, 
but  that  he  did  so  stand  and  talk,  I  can  vouch 
for.  Curiosity  led  me  to  act  as  a  spy  that  eve- 
ning, and  see  where  he  went  after  leaving  the  den; 
this  I  did,  and  soon  discovered  him  leaning  into 
the  window  of  the  corner  room,  very  busily  en- 
gaged in  conversation,  with  the  inmates.  His 
elbows  were  on  the  window  sill  and  he  was  standing 
in  a  very  comfortable  position,  entirely  too  much 
so  for  me  to  resist  the  inviting  temptation.  Being 
acquainted  with  the  fellows  in  the  room  directly 
over  him,  running  to  the  back  entrance  I  gained 
the  room  directly  above  where  he  was  standing, 
and  then  informed  the  boys  of  the  circumstances 
that  were  taking  place  below,  asking  for  some 
water.  This  was  furnished  without  hesitation, 
the  window  quietly  raised,  and  I  then  and  there 
treated  Sam  to  a  cold  water  bath.  'T\vas  a  little 


72.  THE    STENOGRAPHER. 

mean,  but  the  deed  was  done;  I  knew  he  would  be 
mad,  and  was  aware  of  the  fact  that  it  would  be 
policy  forme  to  reach  home  before  he  did,  if  pos- 
sible. After  obtaining  a  promise  that  they  would 
not  give  it  away,  took  my  departure  via.  the  same 
route  I  had  entered,  and  made  all  possible  haste 
for  the  den.  It  appeared  that  Sam  had  not  lin- 
gered to  say  many  parting  words,  nor  had  he 
stopped  by  the  wayside  on  his  return  home  to 
count  stars  or  listen  to  the  warble  of  birds,  for 
upon  reaching  the  door,  the  noise  from  within 
was  entirely  too  audible  to  permit  doubt  as  to  his' 
being  there. 

To  say  that  he  was  wrathy,  would  be  placing 
it  in  its  mildest  form;  he  was  pacing  up  and  down 
the  room,  gritting  his  teeth  and  talking  as  though 
he  would  thrash  every  fellow  on  the  second  floor 
of  the  dormitory,  to  be  sure  and  get  the  right  one. 
I  professed  perfect  ignorance  of  the  affair,  and 
expressed  surprise  that  any  one  should  be  guilty 
of  so  rude  an  act;  but  all  efforts  to  pacify  him 
proved  in  vain;  nothing  short  of  whipping  the  fel- 
low that  threw  the  water,  would  ever  appease  his 
wrath.  A  change  of  the  subject  and  shortly  the 
arrival  of  bed-time,  quieted  him  for  the  evening, 
and  the  next  morning  he  had  partially  outgrown 
it,  although  it  would  not  have  been  policy  for  me 
to  have  allowed  him  to  discover  who  the  guilty 
party  was.  Of  course,  the  boys  who  inhabited 
the  room  from  whence  the  water  came,  gave 
nothing  away. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  73. 

On  the  date  of  the  above  occurrence,  I  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  one  Oscar  Jones,  which  has 
proved  to  be  a  friendship  of  more  than  ordinary 
nature.  We  seemed  congenial  from  the  very  first, 
and  from  that  time  on,  our  inclination  toward  each 
other  grew,  and  now  the  ties  of  friendship  rarely 
ever  bind  man  and  man  nearer  together  than  he 
and  I.  Our  friendship  ripened  very  quickly,  and 
well  that  it  did,  for  a  few  days  after  that,  Oscar 
was  taken  very  sick.  He  was  rooming  in  one  of 
the  dormitories,  in  a  sort  of  a  pig-pen  place,  such 
as  was  furnished  the  boys,  and  it  was  all  a  well 
man  could  do  to  live  in  one  of  them,  but  when 
sickness  came,  it  was  indeed  tough.  The  house- 
hold goods  consisted  of  the  bare  absolute  neces- 
sities, that  one  might  exist — a  water  pail  and  tin 
cup  constituted  all  the  articles  that  you  could  use 
to  dish  up  anything  in,  for  a  sick  person.  His 
sickness  came  near  proving  serious;  he  grew  worse 
rapidly  and  we  called  for  the  doctor;  yet,  to  have 
the  doctor  come,  was  but  to  add  embarrassment 
to  his  already  wounded  feelings,  for  there  was 
nothing  to  mix  medicine  in,  save  the  tin  cup,  or 
the  full  grown  water  pail.  We  gave  him  the  cup, 
which,  proportionately,  was  equal  to  the  widow's 
mite;  he  mixed  some  sort  of  stuff  therein,  pur- 
ported to  be  an  antidote  for  sickness,,  leaving 
orders  to  give  so.  many  teaspoonfuls,  so  often. 
I  could  think  of  no  better  way  than  that  he  take 
up  the  cup  and  drink  until  he  thought  about  a 
dose  had  been  taken,  but  poor  Oscar  had  never 


74-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

been  accustomed  to  such  treatment,  and  could 
not  entertain  the  idea  of-  so  administering  the  bit- 
ter drugs.  After  some  preliminaries,  we  succeeded 
in  getting  a  spoon  and  a  glass;  with  these  we  were 
quite  well  fixed  for  taking  care  of  the  sick.  His 
sickness  lingered  for  several  days,  during  which 
time  I  remained  with  him  most  of  the  time,  ex- 
cept when  I  was  engaged  in  stretching  my  intellect. 
Soon  after  his  recovery  from  sickness,  he  secured 
a  position  in  a  wholesale  dry  goods  house  in  the 
city  of  Gentleburg,  and  we  were  forced  to  part, 
not  forever,  however,  as  after  years  brought  us 
together  again. 

The  typewriter  never  failed  to  interest  me, 
but  to  say  that  shorthand  was  a  pleasant  study,  I 
could  not  conscientiously  do  so.  One  trouble 
being  with  my  shorthand,  I  did  not  take  pride 
enough  in  causing  my  notes  to  look  neat,  and  get- 
ting them  accurate,  hence  they  were  not  so  easily 
read  as  they  might  have  been,  had  more  pains 
been  taken  in  placing  them  on  the  paper.  Another 
thing  that  bothered  me  some,  I  did  not  fully  mas- 
ter the  principles  before  commencing  to  write, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  one  notable  charac- 
teristic of  my  life,  viz:  to  hang  on  as  long  as  there 
is  hope,  I  fear  I  should  have  given  it  up  in  de- 
spair, before  having  mastered  the  preface,  as  it 
were. 

Soon  after  Oscar  left  school,  Sam  became  too 
high-toned  for  the  room  we  were  in,  and  left  me, 
having  found  an  associate  more  congenial,  and  a 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  75. 

far  more  pleasant  room,  thus  I  was  left  alone;  and 
this,  together  with  the  loss  of  Oscar,  caused  me 
to  feel  lonesome  for  a  time]  but  while  alone,  I 
could  study  more,  and  did  so,  and  had  the  sur- 
roundings been  anything  like  a  human  habitation, 
life  might  have  been,  more  pleasant.  This  lasted 
but  a  short  time,  however,  as  the  term  for  which 
the  room  had  been  engaged,  expired;  'tis  needless 
to  say  I  vacated  it.  After  a  little  skirmishing 
around,  secured  a  room  with  three  other  fellows, 
with  a  private  family,  a  perfect  palace,  compared 
with  the  one  I  had  been  stopping  in  heretofore. 
The  room  was  a  very  large  one,  and  four  of  us 
could  get  along  quite  comfortably;  the  other  three 
being  of  an  amicable  disposition,  we  studied  in 
earnest. 

Soon,  I  awoke  to  the  fact  that  I  was  a  little 
rusty  in  other  branches  besides  shorthand,  so 
commenced  to  study  other  branches,  but  all  the 
time  giving  shorthand  the  preference.  Soon  after 
changing  my  place  of  habitation,  the  currency 
which  I  had  brought  from  home  became  almost 
extinct,  and  as  per  agreement  with  the  tiead  of 
the  family,  I  was  to  raise  the  necessary  wherewith, 
so  long  as  I  attended  school  thereafter.  I  had 
already  arranged  with  my  brother,  whose  head- 
quarters were  in  Butchertown,  to  loan  me  the 
money  as  he  could  spare  it,  so  wrote  him  the  cir- 
cumstances, and  received  some  currency,  which 
placed  me  on  my  feet  again,  financially. 


76.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Six  or  eight  months  prior  to  this,  lucre  had 
been  quite  a  serious  shooting  afray  in  Hardstudy, 
in  which  two  or  three  lives  were  lost.  The  short- 
hand professor  had  attended  the  preliminary  trial 
and  taken  the  evidence,  which  he  preserved  and 
had  it  dictated  to  the  class.  They  dictated  from 
this  testimony  about  one  hour  each  day.  While 
taking  this,  I  first  became  interested  in  shorthand 
and  began  to  take  pride  in  my  notes,  for  it  had  a 
sort  of  an  inspiraation  about  it,  that  enthused  one 
to  become  a  court  reporter.  The  trial  had  been 
a  very  lengthy  one,  and  there  was  several  hours 
dictation,  but  I  had  resolved  from  the  first,  that 
if  at  all  possible,  I  would  take  the  entire  trial  and 
transcribe  it.  After  considerable  wrestling  around 
for  two  or  three  weeks  in  company  with  one  other 
fellow,  we  succeeded  in  accomplishing  the  feat, 
being  the  only  ones  out  of  the  class  of  fifty  or 
sixty.  It  made  about  sixty  pages  of  closely  writ- 
ten matter,  and  it  was  no  small  task  for  an  aman- 
uensis to  perform.  We  were  both  very  proud  of 
our  success,  and  fixed  the  transcripts  up  in  fine 
style,  and  I  still  retain  mine.  The  other  fellow, 
who  we  will  know  by  the  name  of  Binns,  was  one 
of  those  peculiar  characters  we  seldom  meet.  He 
had  been  a  very  adventuresome  lad,  having  run 
away  from  home  when  young,  and  traveled  all 
over  the  West  and  South,  stating  that  at  one  time, 
after  having  been  away  from  home  for  some  time, 
and  but  a  kid,  he  became  financially  stranded. 
He  was  going  around  in  a  very  melancholy  mood, 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  77. 

\\ucii  lie  happened  to  find  a  penny,  with  which  he 
purchased  a  postal  card,  and  wrote  to  his  mother. 
Though  his  action  in  leaving  home  so  young 
could  but  be  condemned,  yet  his  act  in  investing  the 
one  cent  in  the  manner  he  did,  is  certainly  com- 
mendable. After  leaving  school,  his  roving  dis- 
position again  seized  him,  and,  after  reaching  the 
Pacific  coast  in  a  box-car,  succeeded  in  securing 
a  position  in  Washington  Territory,  afterwards 
engaging  in  the  fish  and  oyster  business  for  him- 
self, but  finally  again  engaged  in  shorthand,  and 
was  following  it  the  last  I  heard  from  him. 

After  taking  the  evidence  which  had  been  given 
in  the  murder  trial,  I  got  along  very  nicely  with 
shorthand,  and  in  fact  most  every  way,  only  the 
outlook  for  a  position  was  very  discouraging,  as 
some  of  them  had  already  wended  their  way 
homeward,  completely  disgusted,  never  expecting 
to  secure  a  place;  and  besides,  my  borrowing 
money  was  grinding  on  my  conscience  to  an  aggra- 
vating extent. 

It  had  reached  that  point  where  it  seemed  like 
throwing  good  money  after  chances  on  bad,  and 
to  say  that  the  future  looked  dark  and  gloomy,  is 
placing  it  mildly.  I  did  not  want  to  leave  school 
until  I  had  something  in  view,  neither  did  I  want 
to  continue  to  borrow  money  without  any  flatter- 
ing prospects  of  being  able  to  repay  it.  As  would 
naturally  be  supposed,  by  this  time  I  was  becom- 
ing quite  well  acquainted  with  a  large  number  of 
students,  and  was  in  a  position  to  have  considera- 


7$.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

ble  sport;  was  getting  to  be  a  fair  foot-ball  player, 
and  learning  to  hold  my  own  with  things  in  gen- 
eral, but  oh,  that  money  business!  something  had 
to  be  done. 

There  were  two  large  hotels  in  town,  both  of 
which  did  a  good  business.  One  of  these,  about 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  school  building, 
and  in  the  central  part  of  town,  was  in  the  habit 
of  keeping  one  of  the  students  from  the  college, 
as  a  general  roustabout,  for  his  board  and  room. 
One  of  the  fellows  who  had  been  there,  was  going 
to  leave,  and  he  told  me  about  it  being  a  good 
place  for  a  fellow  whose  currency  was  short.  The 
very  idea  of  my  working  for  board  while  attend- 
ing school!  I  could  not  at  first  consider  it  at  all. 
I  had  been  boarding  at  the  college  all  the  time, 
with  ten  of  us  at  the  table,  five  of  each  sex,  and 
meal  time  was  generally  looked  forward  to  with  a 
view  of  having  a  sort  of  a  young  picnic;  and  then, 
the  hotel  was  a  great  place  for  the  boys  to  lounge 
around,  and  the  thought  of  my  meeting  them 
there,  was  more  than  my  pride  would  stand,  so  I 
did  not  take  it.  Another  fellow  got  in  there,  but 
he  only  remained  a  week  or  two,  during  which 
time  the  prospects  of  my  getting  into  anything 
that  would  enable  me  to  earn  any  money  by  the 
use  of  my  accomplishment,  was  growing  darker 
and  darker,  daily.  Driven,  as  it  were,  by  a 
troubled  conscience,  more  than  absolute  necessity, 
I  went  to  the  hotel.  I  didn't  look  forward  with 
very  much  of  a  dread  as  to  what  the  work  would 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  79. 

be  there,  but  the  thought  of  the  students  passing 
the  hotel  and  see  me  at  work,  if  they  should,  was 
anything  but  a  pleasant  thought.  While  it  was  no 
disgrace,  nevertheless,  I  could  not  help  but  look 
upon  it  as  such.  The  room  they  furnished  me 
was  comfortable,  but  not  very  large,  and  not  so 
pleasantly  located  as  it  might  have  been,  but  as 
there  are  sometimes  exceptions  to  rules,  such  it 
was  in  this  case,  for  the  people  were  very  nice  to 
me,  and  treated  me  as  one  of  the  family.  I  could 
not  have  asked  for  kinder  treatment  under  the 
circumstances.  My  main  duty  was  to  rise  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  start  two  or  three 
fires,  thus  allowing  me  to  get  my  work  done  and 
everything  ready  before  any  of  the  students  would 
be  on  the  street,  and  the  remainder  of  the  time  I 
would  invest  in  my  room. 

There  is  not  a  more  disagreeable  feeling  than 
to  have  one's  pride  crushed  and  being  continu- 
ally trampled  under  foot,  and  while  I  was  not 
often  seen  by  any  of  the  fellows  from  the  college, 
around  the  hotel,  there  would  be  times  when  cir- 
cumstances would  be  such  as  to  have  me  carrying 
a  pail  of  coal  as  they  passed.  I  could  feel  the 
blood  rush  to  my  face  and  the  perspiration  start 
afresh;  then  I  would  retire  to  my  humble  habita- 
tion, smooth  out  my  troubled  conscience  a  little, 
and  go  to  school.  While  this  may  not  seem  very 
hard  to  some,  it  was  more  than  I  trust  I  shall 
ever  have  to  do  again.  Not  so  much  for  the 
position  as  the  circumstance.  Had  I  been  in  a 


8o.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

strange  town,  where  I  was  a  total  stranger,  it 
would  not  have  hurt  me  in  the  least,  but  there  is 
a  peculiarity  about  everyone,  and  that  was  one  of 
my  peculiar  characteristics.  During  this  time  I 
was  learning  rapidly,  in  more  ways  than  one,  and 
I  improved  every  spare  moment,  hence  was,  as  I 
thought,  getting  in. pretty  good  shape  for  a  posi- 
tion. 

While  I  was  at  the  hotel  only  about  six  weeks, 
I  gained  some  very  healthy  and  lasting  experience, 
which  I  have  not,  as  yet,  forgotten.  My  brother 
in  Butchertown  finally  advised  me  to  come  down 
there  and  try  my  luck,  and  after  considering  the 
matter  for  a  time,  and  making  the  necessary  ar- 
rangements, I  decided  to  go. 

There  are  few  times  in  life  more  touching  than 
leaving  school,  especially  when  a  number  of  warm 
friends  are  to  be  left;  however,  it  is  something 
that  one  encounters  in  life.  After  having  been 
accustomed  to  mingle  with  them  daily,  then  to 
grasp  their  hands  in  farewell,  when,  beyond  all 
probabilities,  it  is  for  the  last  time,  it  is  no  joke, 
by  any  means.  But,  of  course  such  partings  de 
pend  largely  upon  the  depth  of  friendship  with  a 
person,  and,  with  me  it  meant  a  great  deal.  How- 
ever, circumstances  were  such  it  seemed  wisdom 
to  go,  so  after  the  usual  hand-shaking  on  one  fine 
May  morning,  I  turned  my  back  upon  the  old 
school  ground  and  the  town  of  Hardstudy,  for- 
ever. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LEAVE  SCHOOL,   STRIKE  BUTCHERTOWN,   TROUBLE 
ONLY  NOW  BEGINS,  A  REGULAR  TENDERFOOT. 

Life,  no  doubt,  should  be  a  scene  of  happiness; 
but,  largely  from  our  own  fault,  it  is  true,  all 
know  that  it  abounds  in  many  trying  scenes.  It 
is  somewhat  pitiful  to  see  the  young  and  the  gay 
brought  suddenly  face  to  face  with  the  stern  realitfes 
of  life,  and  care  and  trouble  and  sorrow  take  up 
their  thenceforth  unceasing  abode  with  them;  and 
yet  the  only  thing  to  do  is  to  take  up  the  burdens 
of  life  with  a  brave  heart.  A  promment  writer 
expressed  my  sentiments  when  he  said:  "As  life 
advances,  does  it  not  often  seem  as  a  vessel  going  to 
pieces;  as  if  we  were  on  the  broken  fragments  of 
a  ship,  or  in  a  solitary  skiff,  on  the  waste  of  wa- 
ters? Can  we  say  there  was  ever  a  truer  saying 
uttered,  than  'Human  life  is  a  subject  which  we 
all  delight  to  contemplate?  It  is,  alas!  to  be 
feared  that  few  of  us  sum  the  matter  up  aright.' 
We  are  constantly  wishing  every  period  of  life  at 
an  end.  The  minor  longs  to  be  of  age;  then  to 
be  a  man  of  business;  then  to  make  up  an  estate; 
then  to  arrive  at  honor;  then  to  retire;  and  death 
soon  closes  the  scene-shifting. 


52.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

"Life  has  been  compared  to  many  things;  often- 
est,  perhaps,  to  a  river,  down  which  we  voyage  in 
a  boat.  At  first,  we  glide  down  the  narrow  chan- 
nel, through  the  playful  murmurings  of  the  little 
brook,  and  the  winding  of  grassy  borders.  The 
trees  hang  their  blossoms  over  our  young  heads, 
the  flowers  on  the  brink  seem  to  offer  themselves 
to  our  young  hands;  we  are  happy  in  hope,  and 
we  grasp  eagerly  at  the  beauties  around  us;  but 
the  stream  hurries  on,  and  still  our  hands  are 
empty.  Our  course  in  youth  and  manhood  is 
along  a  wider  and  deeper  flood,  amid  objects 
more  striking  and  magnificent.  We  are  animated 
at  the  moving  pictures  of  enjoyment  and  industry 
passing  around  us;  we  are  excifed  at  some  short- 
lived disappointment.  The  stream  hurries  us  on, 
and  our  joys  and  our  griefs  are  alike  left  behind 
us.  We  rrmy  be  shipwrecked,  we  cannot  be  de- 
layed; whether  rough  or  smooth,  the  river  hastens 
to  its  home.  At  length,  the  roar  of  the  ocean  is 
in  our  ears,  the  tossing  of  the  waves  beneath  our. 
feet,  the  land  lessens  from  our  eyes,  the  floods  are 
lifted  around  us,  and  of  our  further  voyage  no 
mortal  knows.  The  wind  is  always  off  shore,  and 
no  boat  ever  returns." 

Were  I  to  sum  up  the  course  of  life  in  a  few 
words,  I  would  say,  "The  course  of  life  is  a  rug- 
ged diagonal  between  duty  and  desire. "  It  is  some- 
what pathetic,  when  we  consider  how  completely 
the  youthful  dreams  of  life  are  often  disappointed. 
It  has  been  said,  "A  true  man  will  lose  on 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIAL.  83. 

time  in  getting  down  to  earnest  work  in  life,"  but 
experience  taught  me,  if  a  man  do  this,  to  be  a  true 
man, he  can  never  be  a  stenographer  and  a  true  man; 
for,  though  he  may  be  ever  so  willing,  if  he  can't 
get  a  "job,"  he  can't  get  down  to  earnest  business 
without  losing  some  time.  It  is  true,  we  are  not 
to  seek  for  some  easy  passage  through  life,  for  we 
are  liable  to  find  that  our  paths  will  lie  amid  rocks 
and  crags,  and  not  on  lawns  or  among  lilies; 
over  precipitous  mountains,  not  along  the  pleas- 
ant banks  of  winding  rivers.  We  have  got  to 
take  hold  of  the  tough  knots  of  life  and  try  to 
untie  them.  We  would  say,  let  every  man  be 
occupied,  and  occupied"  in  the  highest  employ- 
ment of  which  his  nature  is  capable.  There  is 
one  consolation  in  this  action,  that  is,  there  will 
always  remain  to  such  an  one  the  inner  conscien- 
tiousness that  he  has  done  his  best. 

As  the  train  pulled  out  of  Hardstudy,  I  gave 
one  long  look  at  the  little  town  in  the  beautiful 
valley,  turned  my  face  forward,  and  I  was  rush- 
ing forth  to  meet  the  stern  realities  of  life,  as  igno- 
rant of  what  the  future  held  in  store  for  me,  as  it 
was  possible  for  one  to  be,  and  yet  as  full  of  am- 
bition and  anticipation  as  my  limited  imaginations 
would  permit.  I  did  not  anticipate  all  smooth 
sailing,  neither  did  I  anticipate  it  would  be  quite 
so  rugged  as  it  had  been.  I  did  not  then  so  fully 
appreciate  the  fact  as  I  do  now,  that  there  is  a 
vast  difference  between  a  dollar  earned  and  a  dol- 
lar saved.  I  had  figured  largely  on  the  income 


84.  THE    STENOGRAPHER- 

tax,  out  gave  little  thought  to  the  output.  Who 
can  think  over  his  past  life  without  wishing  he 
might  have  one  more  trial,  and  that  to  start  with 
the  experience  we  now  have?  Oh,  what  a  glori- 
ous success  we  would  make  of  it,  to  be  sure!  But  as 
it  is,  we  can  only  profit  by  the  experience  of  others. 
While  my  brother  Harry  had  his  business  head- 
quarters at  Butchertown,  he  resided  at  Deadville, 
a  little  suburban  town  about  ten  miles  away,  he 
being  on  the  road  a  great  deal  of  the  time;  and, 
as  accidents  will  happen,  such  we  might  consider 
it  in  this  case,  for  after  a  ride  of  an  hour  or  so,  I 
came  to  a  junction,  where  it  was  necessary  to 
change  cars,  and  who  should  be  on  the  train  I 
was  to  take  for  Deadville,  but  Harry!  It  had 
been  several  months  since  I  had  seen  any  of  the 
folks,  and  under  the  circumstances  which  sur- 
rounded my  life  just  at  this  time,  it  is  needless  to 
say  I  was  "tickled  to  death"  to  see  him.  Seemed 
I  never  saw  him  look  so  good  before,  and  know- 
ing what  he  had  already  done  for  me,  I  naturally 
felt  a  little  under  obligations  to  him. 

He  took  in  my  situation  at  a  glance,  and  no 
doubt  in  sympathy  with  me,  for  he  did  everything 
he  could  to  encourage  me,  and  before  night  I 
thought  half  the  battle  of  life  was  victoriously 
fought.  There  are  times  in  life  when  kind  words 
are  almost  as  valuable  as  gold,  and  are  something 
all  can  give  if  they  will.  Along  in  the  afternoon 
we  reached  Deadville,  and,  to  say  the  least,  the 
name  is  very  expressive.  The  buildings,  some  of 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  85. 

them  at  least,  gave  unmistakable  evidence  of  hav- 
ing been  built  many  long  years  ago,  and  some  of 
the  inhabitants  bore  evidence  of  having  lived  in  the 
days  when  it  was  fashionable  for  the  men  to  wear 
long  hair,  and  had  forgotten  to  change  their  cus- 
tom when  the  rest  of  the  civilized  world  did;  but, 
regardless  of  the  dilapidated,  long-haired  pedes- 
trians that  infested  the  place,  there  were  some  very 
nice  residences. 

The  backbone  of  the  town  was  a  large  agricul- 
tural college,  founded  by  some  benevolent  old 
fellow  when  he  joined  the  silent  majority.  At  the 
time  we  arrived  there,  I  believe  there  were  about 
five  hundred  students  in  attendance,  and  to  say 
they  were  a  mixed  up  lot  of  knowledge  seekers, 
is  placing  it  in  a  very  mild  form.  It  was  so 
arranged,  that  any  one  with  good  intentions  could 
enter  the  school,  even  if  he  was  completely  finan- 
cially stranded,  and  work  half  of  the  time  and  at- 
tend school  the  other  half.  Taking  a  retrospect- 
ive view  of  the  situation,  I  sized  it  up  about  this 
way:  The  school  was  composed  of  the  children  of 
wealthy  people,  who  had  become  unmanageable  in 
the  city  and  sent  them  there  to  get  them  out  of  the 
way;  this,  however,  composed  a  very  small  portion 
of  the  school.  Then  there  were  a  few  that  were  real 
anxious  to  gain  an  education,  and  who  were  not 
able  to  obtain  it  in  other  colleges,  but  the  larger 
portion  was  made  up  of  those  who  had  made  a 
stab  at  life,  and  it  had  culminated  in  failure  be- 
fore they  were  more  than  twenty-five,  and  deciding 

IT 


86.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

to  take  a  moral,  as  well  as  a  financial  turn  in  life, 
they  had  taken  up  a  course  in  school,  with  a  view 
of  making  preachers  or  lawyers  out  of  themselves. 
While  the  farm  in  connection  with  the  college 
might  have  been  large  enough,  everything  went  to 
show  that  it  was  either  not  profitably  cultivated, 
or  else  the  soil  in*  and  around  Deadville  was  of 
the  non-productive  sort;  as  Wm.  Nye  puts  it, 
"Had  to  engage  stone  masons  to  plant  their 
corn."  for  they  could  not  commence  to  raise 
enouge  to  feed  the  hungry  multitude,  let  alone 
clothe  them,  hence  they  depended  largely  on 
donations  from  the  dying  rich  in  the  East,  and 
their  expectations  from  this  source  were  very 
often- gratified;  but  sometimes  it  would  seem  their 
Eastern  friends  were  not  dying  with  the  regularity 
necessary  to  keep  them  in  good  shape.  One  of 
the  most  peculiar  features  of  the  students  was 
their  dress.  Some  large  clothing  house  in  the 
East  would  have  a  large  stock  of  clothing  that  had 
gone  out  of  date,  misfits,  etc.,  and  after  carrying 
them  in  stock  until  tired  of  them,  they  would 
donate  them  to  the  college,  and  from  this  dona- 
tion the  boys  were  clothed.  It  was,  first  there  first 
served,  hence  the  best  pushers  would  get  to  the 
pile  first,  and  pick  out  their  suit,  which  would  be 
of  a  respectable  looking  nature,  but  it  was  noth- 
ing strange  to  see  some  poor,  meek  looking  chap 
standing  around,  a  few  days  after  the  distribution, 
stove  into  a  pair  of  pants  six  inches  too  short  for 
him,  and  a  coat  made  after  the  Prince  Albert 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  87. 

fashion,  at  least  five  years  too  old  for  him.  One 
can  better  imagine  than  can  pen  describe,  what 
sort  of  a  spectacle  two  or  three  hundred  boys 
dressed  in  this  manner  would  present.  The  girls 
seemed  to  fare  better  in  regard  to  the  dress  busi- 
ness, as  they  usually  looked  much  more  respectable; 
whether  they  were  better  served  in  the  dress  line, 
or  whether  they  were  more  particular  about  their 
toilet,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say. 

The  course  of  study  took  seven  years,  and 
should  have  been  quite  thorough,  but  it  would 
always  seem  sad  to  me  to  see  them  entering  upon 
a  seven  year  course  of  such  a  life  as  that  when 
they  were  anywhere  from  twenty-five  to  forty 
years  old;  yet,  with  a  great  many  of  them,  it 
seemed  about  the  only  avenue  in  life  that  was  left 
for  them  to  tread.  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  if 
we  could  learn  the  secret  life  of  the  students  in 
such  a  school  as  that,  we  would  learn  of  some 
very  sad  disappointments  and  crushed  hopes. 
With  some  of  them,  the  countenance  and  looks 
gave  unmistakable  evidence  of  a  troubled  mind 
and  a  disappointed  life. 

The  next  morning,  in  company  with  Harry,  I 
visited  Butchertown,  which  was  the  first  city  ex- 
perience that  had  ever  crossed  my  path.  The  place 
then  numbered  about  two  hundred  thousand  peo- 
ple, and  was  to  me  a  lively  town.  The  first  sight  of 
it  disgusted  me,  and  it  seemed  utterly  impossible 
that  I  could  ever  look  upon  such  a  place  with  any 


88.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

thought  of  calling  it  my  home;  in  after  years  I 
looked  back  upon  that  thought  and  wondered, 
Could  it  be  possible? 

It  was  a  very  cloudy  day,  raining  a  little,  and 
smoke  thick  and  heavy,  and  everything  so  differ- 
ent from  the  surroundings  at  Hardstudy,  my  heart 
grew  light  and  the  thought  rushed  through  my 
mind,  This  or  farming.  While  I  can  now  think  of 
this  and  smile,  it  was  to  me  then  a  very  serious 
matter,  for  it  did  not  seem  that  I  could  ever  live 
there  for  love  or  money. 

After  taking  in  the  town  for  an  hour  or  two,  we 
called  upon  a  gentleman  that  had  formerly  been 
a  great  friend  of  the  family,  but  was  now  engaged 
in  business  in  the  city.  Harry  informed  him  dur- 
ing the  conversation  which  followed,  that  I  was 
"looking  for  a  job,"  and,  while  he  was  very  cour- 
teous and  expressed  a  willingness  to  do  all  he 
could  for  me,  he  was  not  in  a  position  to  do  any- 
thing just  then,  as  business  was  getting  dull.  He 
was  trafficing  in  real  estate,  and  real  estate  had 
taken  a  tumble.  After  both  a  pleasant  and  dis- 
appointed visit  with  him,  and  one  other  old  time 
friend  or  two,  we  returned  to  Deadville  and  invest- 
ed the  remainder  of  the  day  very  pleasantly. 

Business  called  Harry  out  of  town,  and  there 
was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  lay  around  or  go 
back  to  the  city  and  rustle  for  a  place  to  earn 
bread.  Mustering  up  all  the  courage  I  could 
command,  I  took  the  morning  train  for  the  city, 
and  while  I  did  not  anticipate  that  the  business 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  89. 

men  would  run  out  into  the  streets  and  pull  me  in, 
in  their  bloodthirsty  desire  to  secure  a  ''compe- 
tent stenographer"  (which  the  letter  in  my  pocket 
said  I  was),  I  did  expect  that  some  of  the  mighty 
financiers  of  that  burg  would  give  me  a  job.  Not 
knowing  what  better  to  do,  I  went  to  the  same 
place  Harry  and  I  had  been  the  day  before,  to 
let  them  know  I  was  still  in  the  field  of  business, 
but,  strange  to  say,  they  did  not  have  a  very  long 
list  of  fellows  looking  for  a  man  of  my  calibre. 
The  sun  coming  out,  and  the  smoke  clearing  away 
somewhat,  I  resolved  to  tackle  every  man  or  boy 
that  I  met,  for  something  to  do,  until  I  got  a 
place;  that  is,  where  I  found  them  in  an  office. 
Some  of  the  large  business  buildings  I  would  can- 
vass from  cellar  to  garret,  but  in  every  place  I 
met  about  the  same  response,  if  a  response  at  all. 
Some  places,  where  the  offices  would  be  peculiar- 
ly arranged,  and  being  ignorant  about  everything, 
I  remember  on  one  occasion  particularly,  I  went 
in  and  tackled  the  boss  for  a  place,  and  got  a  neg- 
ative reply,  but  as  I  was  making  a  thorough  can- 
vass of  the  building,  walked  out,  and  walked  into 
the  next  door  and  tackled  the  man  sitting  there, 
when  I  discovered  the  fact  that  the  office  had  two 
doors,  and  he  was  the  same  man  that  had  just 
told  'me  no.  I  discovered  the  mistake  about  the 
time  the  salutation  was  completed,  and  whether 
by  an  act  of  providence  or  from  my  frightened 
looks,  I  am  not  prepared  to  say,  but  sufficeth  to 
say,  instead  of  kicking  me  out,  as  most  men  would 


90.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

have  done  under  the  circumstances,  he  only 
smiled,  spoke  pleasantly,  as  I  receded  through 
the  door. 

Another  fellow  told  me  he  had  placed  an  ad  in 
the  paper  for  a  stenographer,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing the  hall,  clear  to  the  head  of  the  elevator,  was 
crowded  full  of  applicants;  it  appeared,  so  he 
said,  the  town  was  full  of  them.  This  was  indeed  a 
flattering  outlook  for  one  in  my  position,  and,  after 
trying  time  and  time  again,  I  finally  concluded  he 
was  about  right.  It  really  seemed  to  me  there 
must  have  been  an  alarming  influx  of  steno's  from 
some  source,  or  business  was  dreadfully  dull. 

Though  I  met  scarcely  nothing  but  disappoint- 
ment all  day,  I  was  not  as  much  discouraged  that 
night  as  I  was  when  I  reached  the  city  in  the 
morning,  for  I  had  been  partially  initiated  to  city 
life,  and  the  thought  that  there  was  a  possibility 
of  my  living  there,  flitted  across  my  mind. 

When  I  reached  Deadville  that  night,  I  was  so 
worn  out  I  could  hardly  walk;  tramping  and  trem- 
bling all  day,  had  proven  about  all  I  was  prepared 
for;  however,  the  plan  of  operation,  on  reaching 
the  city  next  time,  had  been  previously  mapped 
out. 

Persistent  effort  works  wonders  at  times,  and 
finally  clews  to  openings  began  to  show  up;  most 
of  them,  when  traced  down,  proved  to  be  without 
foundation,  but  when  a  fellow  is  going  to  a  certain 
place  to  see  about  something  he  has  heard  of,  he 
can  get  a  business  move-up,  but  when  he  is  just 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  91. 

meandering  along,  not  knowing  where  he  is  going, 
everything  becomes  so  monotonous,  he  moves  as 
though  he  was  going  to  his  own  funeral.  Late  in 
the  afternoon,  I  learned  of  a  stenogrpher  having 
committed  suicide  in  the  office,  and  was  informed 
that  beyond  a  doubt  there  would  be  a  vacancy 
there;  so,  learning  the  location  of  the  place,  re- 
solved to  go  over  there  at  once  and  get  in  my  ap- 
plication before  it  was  too  late.  After  starting, 
the  thought  of  going  before  the  other  fellow  was 
buried,  almost  haunted  me,  but  the  little  experience 
already  had,  tended  to  develop  my  courage  into 
what  might  properly  come  under  the  term  "gall;" 
so,  proceeding  forward,  reached  the  office  while  the 
boss  was  at  the  funeral.  Things  did  not  look  very 
encouraging  around  there,  and  I  pondered  in  my 
mind  whether  the  poor  fellow  had  become  dis- 
heartened with  the  surroundings,  or  whether  he 
could  not  read  his  notes,  but  considered  more 
favorably  the  latter,  for  I  have  since  learned  that 
such  difficulties  will  cause  a  fellow  to  think  seri- 
ously of  so  doing.  The  people  in  the  office,  no 
doubt,  thought  I  was  a  little  too  premature,  and 
gave  me  no  encouragement  whatever;  in  other 
words,  discouraged  all  hopes  of  anything  like  a 
position.  This  discouraged  me  more  than  any- 
thing yet;  what  was  the  use;  a  fellow  could  not  get 
around  in  time;  if  only  a  few  more  of  them  would 
commit  suicide  or  die,  and  give  some  one  else  a 
Qhance;  but  it  appeared  they  would  not  do  it. 


92.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Business  was  apparently  looming  up  a  little  in 
my  line,  that  is,  I  was  getting  onto  more  clues 
every  day,  and  it  now  became  a  case  of  chase 
down  rumors,  and  while  in  nearly  every  instance 
I  met  nothing  but  sheer  disappointment,  there  was 
that  desperation  in  ambition  to  secure  a  place, 
that  every  spark  of  information  regarding  a  va- 
cancy was  fanned  into  a  flame,  by  my  heated 
imagination  and  overdrawn  anticipations.  Some 
places  they  made  good  promises,  probaly  would 
6e  an  opening  after  a  time,  and  one  day  I  struck  a 
fellow  who  was  sure  of  a  place  for  me,  but  wanted 
five  dollars  to  put  me  on.  This  was  altogether 
out  of  the  question,  for,  had  it  been  a  house  and 
lot  for  five  dollars,  I  could  not  have  purchased  it 
unless  the  means  could  have  been  borrowed. 
Finally  he  took  my  note,  with  the  understanding 
it  was  to  be  held  out  of  the  first  month's  salary. 
This  time  I  thought  the  matter  was  sealed  and 
sure,  the  place  being  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
where  I  gathered  the  information.  Money  was 
too  precious  for  me  to  waste  it  on  car  fare,  and 
all  my  navigation  was  done  strictly  after  the  pedes- 
trian order.  The  sun  was  fearfully  hot,  but  it 
was  like  a  boy  going  fishing,  the  trip  down  there 
did  not  bother  at  all,  but  oh,  the  trip  coming 
back!  They  were  not  ready  for  a  man  yet,  prob- 
ably would  be  after  awhile,  could  not  tell  how 
long.  The  same  old  racket.  What  was  the  use; 
the  town  full  of  fellows  just  like  myself,  looking 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  93. 

for  work,  and  besides,  quite  a  number  of  ladies, 
and  only  one  chance  in  a  hundred  should  there 
be  a  vacancy. 

My  advice  to  any  one  starting  out,  would  be, 
to  hang  on;  the  prospect  can  never  be  darker  than 
was  mine,  but  persistent  effort  sometimes  wins, 
even  when  fate  seems  to  be  against  us.  Two 
weeks  had  been  invested  in  trying  for  a  place. 
All  this  time  railroad  fare  to  Deadville  had  been 
drawing  terribly  on  my  limited  exchequer,  and 
something  must  be  done.  I  had  called  upon 
Harry  so  long  for  money,  it  seemed  like  it  was 
getting  to  be  an  old  story,  and  the  line  must  be 
drawn.  It  now  came  a  time  when  some  definite 
action  must  be  taken  to  relieve  my  distressed 
financial  condition,  whether  in  the  line  of  short- 
hand or  not.  I  had  been  offered  a  place  in  a  retail 
dry  goods  store  in  Hardstudy,  but  at  such  a  small 
salary  it  would  but  little  ^more  than  keep  up  ex- 
penses; yet,  considering  the  way  circumstances 
had  shaped  themselves,  I  wished  the  opportunity 
had  been  taken. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FROM  BAD  TO  WORSE — FINALLY  DRIVEN  TO  THE 
WALL  AND  TRY  THE  BOOK  BUSINESS. 

After  carefully  scrutinizing  the  papers  for  a  few 
days,  I  saw  an  ad,  which  read  very  flattering: 
"Young  men  wanted,  to  do  collecting,  office 
work,"  etc.  There  was  a  snap,  which  would  be  a 
good  way  to  earn  a  little  money  and  get  on  my 
feet  while  looking  for  a  place  as  a  stenographer. 
I  went  down  to  see  the  man,  walked  into  his 
office,  told  my  business,  and  was  ushered  into  his 
private  sanctum  sanctorum.  He  was  an  oily 
tongued  rascal,  wore  a  silk  hat,  and  if  I  ever  meet 
him  again,  and  recognize  him,  one  of  us  will  prob- 
ably get  hurt;  but  perhaps  we  shall  never  meet, 
(at  least  I  hope  not.) 

He  put  up  a  regular  land  office  talk,  and  before 
he  was.  through,  I  imagined  I  could  hear  the 
shekels  jingling  down  into  my  jeans;  nothing  to 
do  but  a  little  collecting,  office  work,  and  what- 
ever there  was  to  do;  to  start  at  ten  dollars  a 
week,  with  the  understanding  of  an  increase  in 
salary  shortly.  This  was  Saturday,  Monday  morn- 
ing I  was  to  go  to  work. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  95. 

•  Now  that  a  position  had  been  secured,  I  little 
questioned  but  what  the  worst  was  over,  but  any- 
one with  any  experience  in  life  might  have  known 
he  was  a  bare-faced  liar,  and  me  a  sucker.  The 
remainder  of  the  day  was  invested  in  pleasure; 
great  big  fat  position  waiting  for  me,  I  spent  a 
quarter  foolishly  on  the  strength  of  it,  in  visiting 
a  panorama  of  Gettysburg,  which  was  a  fraud. 

I  was  in  good  spirits  when  reaching  home,  but 
was  somewhat  surprised  at  the  doubtful  look  on 
Harry's  face  when  I  told  him  of  my  excellent  luck 
in  securing  employment.  He  cross-questioned 
me  pretty  sharply  as  to  what  the  work  was,  but  I 
gave  him  the  same  song  Mr.  Oilytongue  had  given 
me,  so  he  finally  agreed  to  go  down  to  the  city 
with  me  Monday  morning,  help  me  to  secure  a 
boarding  place,  and  get  me  started.  Talk  about 
blissful  anticipations,  but  I  basked  in  them,  for 
the  next  day  at  least,  to  perfection.  Being  under 
the  impression  the  position  was  a  very  important 
one,  and  one  that  demanded  early  and  prompt 
attention,  in  order  to  be  on  hand  promptly  at 
seven,  we  took  the  four  o'clock  train  that  morn- 
ing. While  Harry  was  very  good  to  me  all  the 
way  through,  I  can  not  help  thinking  he  made  a 
very  poor  selection  when  he  secured  my  boarding 
house,  not  that  it  was  unclean,  but  with  such  a 
heartless  people,  and  a  people  that  lived  so  much 
better  and  higher  than  my  pocket-book  would  ad- 
mit of  my  living.  He  gave  me  some  more  money, 


96.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

some  advice  about  keeping  a  sharp  look-out  and 
not  get  worked,  etc.,  and  then  left,  as  business 
called  him  hence. 

On  reaching  the  habitation  of  his  royal  high- 
ness, I  discovered  that  a  number  of  other  fellows 
had  secured  a  snap  (?)  also,  and  were  to  commence 
work  that  morning.  There  was  quite  a  string  of 
us  in  the  front  office  waiting  our  turn;  one  by  one 
they  went  through  the  door,  from  whence,  to  all 
appearances,  they  never  returned,  each  man  seem- 
ing to  take  about  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  and  then, 
as  I  afterwards  learned,  they  were  letting  them 
out  the  back  door.  It  all  looked  a  little  suspi- 
cious, but  that  great  big,  juicy  ten  dollars  a  week 
covered  all  seeming  defects  to  me,  and  I  waited 
patiently  my  turn,  which  turned  up  about  eight 
o'clock.  The  man  with  the  silk  hat  on,  that  had 
engaged  my  valuable  services,  sat  at  the  desk, 
and  upon  being  ushered  into  his  presence  and 
the  door  closed  behind  me,  he  politely  informed 
me  what  my  first  duties  would  be.  All  I  would 
have  to  do  would  be  to  just  go  out  and  sell  a 
few  books,  showing  me  the  prospectus  I  was  to 
carry,  explaining  how  easy  it  would  be;  tell  the 
people  they  only  have  to  pay  so  much  per  week; 
and,  despite  the  fact  that  I  was  not  only  disap- 
pointed but  utterly  disgusted  when  I  learned  what 
my  duty  was  to  be,  before  he  got  through  talking, 
I  imagined  it  was  not  so  bad  after  all,  and  be- 
lieved I  could  make  a  success  of  it.  He  gave  ex- 
plicit instructions  that  I  should  not  carry  the  book 


HIS    I.IKE    AND    TRIALS.  97. 

where  it  would  be  visible,  but  must  carry  it  under 
my  coat  until  I  could  secure  a  sack  of  some  kind 
to  conceal  it  in.  Of  course  he  took  some  money 
as  a  deposit  for  the  prospectus,  and  after  thorough- 
ly dressing  me  down,  said  I  had  better  go  to  my 
room  and  study  up  all  that  day,  and  come  up  the 
next  morning,  or,  if  I  so  desired,  go  out  and  sell 
some  books,  and  then  come  up  and  report.  I  at-, 
temp'ted  to  adopt  the  latter  "clause."  He  talked 
to  me  until  I  was  under  the  impression  it  was, 
without  question,  the  most  wonderful  publication 
that  had  ever  been  promulgated,  and  had  no  doubt 
but  what  a  mere  presentation  of  the  wonderful 
work  meant  a  sale.  He  was  careful  to  inform  me 
that,  to  make  a  success,  I  must  be  interested  in 
the  book  myself,  and  that  I  must  have  faith  in  its 
value;  but  the  bloody  prevaricator,  if  that  had 
been  any  indication,  every  man,  woman  and  child 
I  passed,  would  have  purchased  one,  for  he  had 
puffed  it  up  until  I  thought  it  really  had  no  equal. 
Imagine  me,  when  upon  reaching  the  street,  in 
compliance  with  instructions,  I  placed  the  valua- 
ble volume  under  my  coat,  so  people  could  not 
see  it.  The  very  idea  of  a  large  book  like  that, 
tucked  up  under  the  little  summer  coat,  caused 
me  to  look  like  a  snake  after  having  swallowed  a 
toad;  but,  believing  that  to  be  one  of  the  secrets 
of  success  in  the  business,  the  poor  book  was 
scrunched  up  under  that  coat  just  as  far  as  possi- 


9^.  TI1F.    STENOGRAPHER 

ble.  I  imagined  every  fellow  I  met,  laughed  at 
me,  and  no  doubt  but  what  most  of  them  that  saw 
my  deformed  looking  condition,  did. 

Before  going  to  the  room,  however,  I  went  to 
the  post-office,  and  upon  inquiry,  received  a  let- 
ter in  answer  to  one  of  my  applications  for  a  place 
as  steno.  Without  losing  any  time,  I  answered 
the  call  in  person,  found  a  vacancy;  said  he  was 
much  pleased  with  the  neatness  of  my  application, 
and  that  their  head  man  was  off  for  a  few  menths 
and  they  would  give  me  a  trial.  The  fellow  was 
just  as  pleasant  as  any  one  could  ask,  for  a  man 
in  his  position,  but  said  he  would  like  to  try  me 
before  engaging  me,  as  I  was  inexperienced.  To 
this  day  I  am  unable  to  account  for  the  miserable 
failure  made,  for  he  dictated  slow,  and  while  I 
had  nothing  but  an  old  pen  to  write  with,  I  should 
have  gotten  it.  There  was  no  question  but  what 
I  was  excited,  and  he  knew  it.  I  could  not  read 
the  letter  at  all,  and  he,  appreciating  my  embar- 
rassment, said  for  me  to  go  and  study  up  that 
day,  fix  up  for  writing,  and  come  down  the  next 
morning.  The  rest  of  the  day  was  invested  in 
rubbing  up  on  shorthand,  but  I  could  not  sleep 
good  at  all  that  night.  Next  morning,  on  reach- 
ing the  place,  the  old  fellow  was  as  jovial  as  ever, 
but  said,  after  considering  the  matter,  he  did  not 
believe  I  would  be  able  to  hold  the  place,  as  it 
was  a  very  difficult  one,  and  it  would  hardly  be 
possible  for  an  inexperienced  man  to  do  the  work; 
gave  me  considerable  encouragement,  saying  that 


DALLAS,  TfJUJS 

HIS    T.TFK    AND    TRIALS.  99. 

I  would  be  all  right  with  a  little  more  study,  and  to 
take  some  place  not  quite  so  hard  as  that  one,  to 
start  with. 

Notwithstanding  the  encouraging  words  the  old 
fellow  gave  me,  when  leaving  the  place,  I  had  the 
blues,  and  besides,  it  commenced  to  rain.  There 
was  nothing  now  but  that  book,  on  which  to  earn 
bread.  I  returned  to  the  room,  and  studied  until 
noon.  By  this  time  the  rain  had  almost  ceased, 
and  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  went  out 
to  "take  some  orders."  Oh,  that  some  one  could 
have  kicked  me  before  I  got  out  of  the  yard,  taken 
the  book  away  from  me  and  saved  me  the  bitter 
experience  that  followed.  Such  a  dreary  after- 
noon, and  such  a  dismal  task!  I  did  not  have 
sense  enough  to  go  out  among  the  class  of  people 
that  would  entertain  even  a  book  agent  with  re- 
spect, but  struck  among  the  people  who  had  ser- 
vants to  answer  the  ring  of  the  door  bell.  House 
after  house  was  visited,  and  I  did  not  even  get  a 
chance  to  tell  of  my  "wonderful  treasure;"  the  door 
was  either  slammed  in  my  face,  or  I  was  met  with, 
"My  mistress  told  me  not  to  allow  any  more  book 
agents  about  the  place!"  flung  into  my  face  as 
spiteful  as  could  be.  That  kind  of  talk  to  a  ten- 
derfoot like  I  was,  stuck  too  deep  to  be  explained 
on  paper.  All  the  gall  and  courage  formerly 
brought  to  my  assistance,  proved  of  no  avail  tipon 
these  occasions,  but,  true  to  the  task,  I  kept  peg- 
ging away  nearly  all  the  afternoon,  and  while  it 
may  seem  strange,  it  is,  nevertheless  true,  the 


TOO.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

only  person  that  I  could  get  to  even  listen  to  my 
wonderful  story,  was  a^joor,  old,  crippled-up  shoe- 
maker, that  could  not  have  bought  a  book  had  he 
wanted  to,  and  I  doubt  if  he  could  have  read  it, 
had  some  one  made  him  a  present  of  it.  I  had 
tried  so  long  to  get  a  chance  to  tell  my  tale,  then 
when  I  found  a  fellow  that  could  not  get  away, 
and  seemed  to  listen,  even  a  little  unwillingly,  I 
talked  an  arm  nearly  off  him.  The  man  in  the 
silk  hat  had  told  me  not  to  take  "no"  for  an 
answer,  and  while  the  poor  old  fellow  kept  per- 
sistently pleading  and  assuring  me  he  could  not 
possibly  afford  to  buy,  I  kept  hanging  on,  until, 
through  actual  shame  I  sneaked  out. 

Never  in  my  existence  thus  far  on  earth,  have  I 
looked  upon  the  gloomy  side  of  life  in  such  a 
manner;  in  other  words,  human  existence  never 
<  portrayed  to  me  a  darker  picture,  from  my  own 
stand-point,  than  did  it  that  evening.  I  had  in- 
herited a  disposition  that  hated  the  word  failure, 
but  it  now  came  to  nie  with  all. its  horror,  for 
failure  had  been  the  result  of  my  efforts,  and  a  dis- 
mal failure  at  that.  Only  one  man  to  listen,  and 
he  a  crippled  shoemaker;  it  looked  to  me  like  a 
pretty  tough  record,  and  does  yet.  It  appeared 
the  elements  were  in  a  mood  somewhat  similar  to 
myself,  for  they  began  to  pour  fourth  abundantly, 
and  I  and  the  book  meandered  back  to  .the  room 
more  like  a  funeral  procession  than  anything  else. 
There  I  was,  completely  disgusted  with  life, 
home-sick,  life-sick,  out  of  money,  among  strangers 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  IOI. 

and  it  raining  like  fury.  AJ1  thought  of  investing 
another  night  there,  weighed  down  upon  me  like 
a  monster,  and  there  was  a  feeling  about  my  heart 
that  can  not  be  explained.  Some  people  may 
think  there  is  nothing  in.  homesickness,  but  I  pre- 
fer to  have  the  measles  any  time,  in  preference  to 
a  real  bad  case  of  home-sickness. 

There  was  one  outlet.  I  had  money  enough  to 
take  me  to  Deadville,  but  the  thought  of  telling 
Harry  of  my  brilliant  exploits  as  a  business  man  and 
representative  of  the  monstrous  book  publishing 
establishment  of  the  East,  weighed  not  a  little 
upon  my  mind.  It  was  growing  almost  dark;  the 
rain  was  to  me  dreadfully  dismal;  the  train  would 
leave  for  Deadville  in  a  few  minutes;  the  tempta- 
tion was  too  great;  I  would  chance  meeting  Harry, 
tell  him  the  truth  and  take  the  consequences,  it 
could  be  no  worse  than  the  book  business.  I 
gave  the  folks  of  the  house  to  understand  that  the 
press  of  business  called  me  out  of  the  city  in 
haste,  rushed  to  the  depot,  and  was  soon  moving 
for  Deadville.  I  must  admit  I  felt  rather  sneak- 
ing, as  the  train  moved  along  and  I  pondered 
over  the  brilliant  career  of  the  past  few»days. 
But  the  grand  satisfaction  of  again  reaching  Har- 
ry's, it  cannot  be  explained.  After  putting  up  a 
pitiful  talk  that  my  best  efforts  had  been  exhaust- 
ed, and  proven  futile,  together  with  my  dilapi- 
dated looks,  won  their  sympathy  and  they  did 
not  even  reprimand  me. 


102.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Supper  over,  matters  commenced  to  loom  up  a 
little,  and  it  once  more  began  to  dawn  upon  my 
somewhat  bewildered  mind  that  possibly  life  would 
be  worth  living  sometime  in  the  dim  unborn  future, 
and  that  it  was  best  to  not  yet  give  up  in  despair. 

A  thorough  canvass  of  the  matter  with  Harry, 
brought  us  to  the  conclusion  that  my  build  was 
not  particularly  adapted  to  the  life  of  one  endeav- 
oring to  raise  the  standard  of  humanity  by  intro- 
ducing world-startling  productions  of  the  pen, 
under  the  title  of  a  book  agent,  and  that  my  future 
success  in  life  depended  largely  upon  my  drop- 
ping onto  some  other  avocation  for  a  means  of 
earning  bread. 

Next  morning,  I  returned  to  the  city,  for  the 
purpose  of  continuing  my  search  for  a  position  as 
a  rapid  pen  pusher  and  marvelous  typewriter  oper- 
ator. The  precipitation  which  grand  old  nature 
had  been  so  extensively  engaged  in,  the  evening 
before,  had  ceased,  but  it  was  yet  cloudy  and 
dreary.  The  very  sight  of  books  made  me  turn 
sick  at  heart,  and  almost  become  disgusted  with 
literature  in  every  state  and  form. 

About  noon,  an  extraordinary  and  encouraging 
clue  WAS  discovered,  which  resulted  in  my  secur- 
ing a  place  as  clerk,  roustabout  and  stenographer 
combined,  and  about  one  p.  m.  I  rolled  up 
my  sleeves.  The  long  thought  of  and  much 
anticipated  fortune  was  certainly  now  within  my 
grasp,  or,  at  least,  so  I  now  imagined.  There 
seems  to  have  been  no  special  agreement  reached, 


HIS    LTFK    AND    TRIALS.  103. 

as  to  the  amount  of  compensation  I  was  to  receive 
for  my  valuable  (?)  services,  but,  full  of  ambition 
and  self-confidence,  the  pen  commenced  to  wield 
at  my  command. 

It  was  a  wholesale  commission  house,  and 
business  rushing  and  the  place  would  have  been 
difficult  for  an  experienced  man,  hence  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  the  chance  I  stood.  The  head  of  the 
concern  was  a  regular  old  crank,  if  there  ever  was 
one;  he  expected  a  fellow  to  wheel  boxes,  keep 
books,  act  as  cashier,  make  out  bills,  and  be  a 
stenographer  and  typewriter  all  at  once.  liy  a 
desperate  effort  on  my  part,  a  fairly  respectable 
showing  was  made  that  afternoon,  but  he  did  not 
have  a  typewriter;  the  letters,  what  few  were 
written,  had  to  be  placed  on  paper  by  hand  and 
pen.  My  penmanship  did  not  abound  in  flour- 
ishes, nor,,  we  might  add,  in  legibility;  ,  this, 
together  with  the  hurry  and  excitement  that  sur- 
rounded me,  caused  the  writing  to  look  rather  bad 
beyond  a  doubt. 

Regardless  of  all  this,  my  spirits  that  evening 
were  far  above  par,  and  the  thought  of  failure 
never  once  entered  my  brain.  Next  morning,  I 
was  on  hand  for  duty  early,  and,  after  rustling 
around  until  nearly  ten  o'clock,  the  old  man  got 
hot,  and  fired  me  outright,  and  that  without  a  very 
long  or  eloquent  valedictory  speech,  either.  His 
speech  was  very  short,  and  might  well  be  said  to 
abound  with  needless  adjectives.  The  only  thing 
I  don't  now  understand,  is,  why  he  did  not  bring 


104-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

his  boots  into  play  to  impress  upon  my  mind  that 
the  valuable  services  rendered  by  me  were  not  at 
all  satisfactory,  and  were  no  longer  needed.  With 
a  sort  of  a  horse  thief  look  on  me,  I  meekly  in- 
quired if  he  was  not  going  to  give  me  something 
for  what  I  had  done.  In  answer  to  this,  he  hand- 
ed me  a  dollar,  with,  "It's  more  than  you  have 
earned." 

There  I  was  again!  Such  a  recommendation 
to  start  out  with  to  look  for  another  job.  I  can- 
not say  it  was  with  any  very  flattering  prospects 
before  me  that  I  meandered  down  the  crowded 
street,  of  that  apparently  busy  place,  but,  dis- 
couraging as  it  may  appear,  I  was  not  so  utterly 
disgusted  as  when  retiring  from  actual  service  in 
the  book  venture. 

Business  in  my  line  was  undoubtedly  getting 
better,  for  it  was  so  I  could  get  onto  jobs,  even 
though  they  proved  too  much  for  me.  I  rustled 
the  remainder  of  that  day  with  no  avail.  The 
time  for  which  my  board  had  been  paid,  had  ex- 
pired, the  money  Harry  had  given  me  was  all 
gone,  but  a  very  small  amount.  There  was  noth- 
ing to  do  but  go  back  to  Deadville,  which  I  did, 
told  my  tale  of  woe,  and  again  won  their  sym- 
pathy. 

As  a  last  resort,  I  decided  to  rent  a  typewriter 
and  go  into  business  for  myself.  Once  more 
Harry  made  me  a  loan,  and  by  a  stream  of  lucky 
moves, I  found  a  place  where  a  fellow  was  willing 
to  give  me  office  room  with  him,  and  do  his  work, 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  105. 

thus  giving  me  a  good  place  to  make  my  head- 
quarters. Eight  dollars  was  what  they  charged 
per  month  for  the  rent  of  the  machine.  The  man 
where  I  was  to  have  my  headquarters  was  very 
nice  and  did  all  he  could  for  me.  While  it  may 
seem  strange,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  after  working 
a  day  or  two  I  became  interested  in  soliciting 
business,  got  out  a  lot  of  slips  showing  samples  of 
my  work,  also  prices,  and  commenced  to  distribute 
them  around  in  various  offices,  putting  up  a  good 
talk  wherever  possible,  and  in  a  day  or  two  pros- 
pects looked  much  brighter.  Whether  by  chance 
or  an  act  of  providence,  I  am  unable  to  say, 
a  certain  law  firm  needed  some  work  done  in  my 
line,  and  one  of  the  fellows  took  a  fancy  to  me, 
presumably  more  through  pity  than  otherwise,  but 
he  was  good  and  treated  me  white.  He  came  over 
and  asked  me  if  I  could  bring  my  typewriter  and 
do  some  work  for  them  that  afternoon.  Of  course 
I  went;  he  read  to  me,  and  at  night  I  had  earned 
two  dollars.  I  was  the  happiest  man  in  town; 
there  was  no  question  in  my  own  mind  now  but 
what  the  foundation  for  a  successful  future  was 
laid.  Out  of  the  money  Harry  had  "furnished 
when  starting  up  this  new  deal,  I  had  purchased  a 
mileage  book,  which  furnished  means  of  transpor- 
tation, and  in  case  of  emergency,  I  could  go  with- 
out dinner.  I  did  not  get  the  money  that  night, 
but  next  day  about  noon  I  went  around  to  see  them. 
At  that  time,  I  had  just  ten  great  big  juicy  cents 
in  my  pocket,  and  besides,  was  actually  hungry, 


106.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

having  been  on  my  feet  all  the  fore  part  of  the 
day.  After  getting  the  two  dollars,  the  first  pass 
was  to  eat. 

During  my  solicitations,  I  had  struck  quite  a 
large  job  of  work  over  across  the  river,  and  a  few 
days  afterwards,  in  going  over  to  see  about  it, 
struck  a  permanent  position,  which  was  welcomed 
with  open  arms. 


CHAPTER  X. 

STRIKES  A  PERMANENT  POSITION,    AND   LIFE 
MOVES  IN  SMOOTHER  CHANNELS. 

Although  Butchertown  had  experienced  quite  a 
boom  in  real  estate,  I  struck  the  town  at  the  wrong 
end  of  the  boom;  real  estate  men  were  pushing 
hard  to  make  both  ends  meet,  and  some  of  them 
were  failing  even  in  this.  Some  men  in  good 
localities  were  still  hanging  on,  making  a  little 
money  dealing  in  suburban  property;  one  of  the 
latter  named  was  the  place  I  secured  for  the  sea- 
son a  permanent  place  to  earn  bread. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  June;  everything 
looked  promising  ahead.  The  agreement  was,  I 
should  receive  forty  dollars  per  month  until  the 
first  of  September,  then  an  increase  in  compensa- 
tion would  be  taken  into  consideration.  This 
was  highly  satisfactory  to  me,  there  being  but  one 
impending  difficulty:  I  was  to  furnish  the  type- 
writer, which,  of  course,  I  was  in  a  very  poor 
position  to  do.  I  could  never  stand  to  pay  eight 
dollars  per  month  for  one,  and  how  on  earth  could 
I  attempt  to  purchase  one.  Was  in  debt  then,  as 
far  as  I  cared  to  go,  but  under  the  circumstances 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do.  One  hundred  dol- 


108.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

lars  for  the  typewriter,  to  be  paid  in  #25.00  in- 
stallments, Harry  agreeing  to  help  me  out  when 
needful,  or  rather  when  necessary,  as  it  was  need- 
ful then.  How  I  did  squeeze  that  little  forty  dol- 
lars every  month,  but  squeeze  as  I  might,  the 
twenty-five  dollars  could  not  be  stored  away  to 
meet  the  notes  that  came  due  with  such  start- 
ling regularity.  All  the  time  my  account  with 
Harry  was  growing  larger  instead  of  getting  less; 
however,  I  was  prospering  very  nicely  with  the 
work.  The  office  was  in  what  might  have  been 
used  for  a  store  building,  a  long,  narrow  concern. 
In  the  front  was  the  real  estate  office,  in  the  rear 
an  express  office,  the  latter  being  in  charge  of  a 
young  lady.  There  was  hardly  work  enough  to 
keep  a  fellow  busy,  but  there  were  no  other  office 
men  at  all,*hence  my  work  consisted  of  everything 
from  office  boy  to  coachman  and  general  manager 
while  Mr.  Moneymaker  was  out,  and  he  was  out 
most  of  the  time.  The  letters  did  not  average 
more  than  five  or  six  a  day;  considerable  writing 
and  copying  to  do,  but  nothing  very  difficult.  The 
first  resolution  passed  in  my  mind  was,  I  would 
show  Mr.  Moneymaker  that  I  was  not  afraid  to 
work,  hence  the  office  was  swept  out  each  morn- 
ing and  everything  dusted  off  before  he  came 
down.  No  matter  what  there  was  to  do,  if  it  was 
anything  my  ability  was  able  to  cope  with,  I  act- 
ed. Sometimes  it  was  to  go  out  and  assist  in 
cleaning  out  some  new  houses  just  completed, 
sweep  out  the  loose  shavings,  anything  to  invest 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  109. 

the  time  in  the  best  manner  possible.  Some  days 
he  would  be  away  all  day,  then  all  there  was  to 
do  was  to  play  manager  and  talk  with  the  express 
company's  representative. 

From  a  social  standpoint,  except  in  office  hours, 
life  was  rather  barren  for  me,  home-sickness  often 
visited  my  room,  but  it  lacked  the  terrible  pangs 
of  disappointment  that  had  accompanied  it  at  the 
culmination  of  my  book  representative  career. 
As  time  wore  on,  acquaintances  began  to  be  made 
at  the  boarding  house,  some  of  which  I  after- 
wards sorely  repented;  some,  one  especially,  is  a 
warm  friend  to  this  day.  Another,  my  acquaint- 
ance with  him,  proved  very  expensive,  as  the  cur- 
rency he  borrowed  years  ago  for  two  weeks  is 
still  at  large. 

Early  in  the  fall,  I  arranged  to  visit  the  people 
at  home.  Mother  was  anxious  for  me  to  come, 
and  Jennie  wrote  awfully  encouraging  about  my 
coming;  so,  one  evening,  finding  Mr.  Money- 
maker in  a  very  pleasant  mood,  the  subject  was 
broached  and  the  request  granted.  Ten  days  off 
and  a  trip  home.  Only  those  who  have  been 
taken  from  quiet  home  life  and  thrown  among 
strangers,  can  fully  appreciate  what  those  words 
mean,  what  a  feeling  they  bring  to  a  person.  The 
thought  of  seeing  all  the  old  landmarks  that 
have  been  watched  from  childhood,  plenty  of 
fresh  air,  nothing  to  do  but  enjoy  life.  Time 
could  not  pass  fast  enough  between  this  and  the 
time  for  starting. 


110.  'JHK    STENOGRAPHER 

After  visiting  the  folks  at  home  a  short  time, 
the  country  intervening  between  the  old  home- 
stead and  the  ranch  that  had  so  often  been  visited 
by  me  in  times  passed,  was  crossed.  I  was  tolera- 
bly well  pleased  to  see  Jennie,  and  she  was  tickled 
to  death  to  see  me;  in  fact,  she  was  so  tickled,  ex- 
cited, or  something,  that  before  I  could  recover 
myself  upon  entering  the  door,  she  deliberately 
kissed  me.  The  thoughts  that  flitted  across  my 
mind  were  never  reduced  to  words,  the  blood 
rushed  to  my  face  and  perspiration  started  on  my 
forehead,  but  presuming  that  that  was  the  proper 
manner  we  must  meet,  said  nothing,  dropped  into  a 
chair  and  was  soon  waiting  for  the  kids  to  retire. 
The  ancient  man  was  well  supplied  with  haps  and 
mishaps  that  had  transpired  during  my  absence, 
but  owing  to  the  heated  condition  of  the  elements, 
he  retired  rather  early,  as  did  the  remainder  of 
the  family,  and  soon  we  were  left  alone.  She 
talked  and  talked,  and  so  did  I;  patched  up  all  the 
old  "scraps"  that  had  taken  place  before  my  leav- 
ing, all  of  which,  as  those  who  have  had  expe- 
rience know,  has  a  tendency  to  make  one  think 
he  is  sailing  down  life's  river  on  flowery  beds  of 
ease.  After  the  clock  had  voiced  its  sentiments  a 
few  times,  I  and  the  faithful  creature  tied  at  the 
gate,  wended  our  weary  way  across  the  country, 
and  sweet  sleep  ended  the  scene.  During  the 
visit,  one  other  trip  was  made  over  there;  possibly 
two;  the  last  one  was  a  regular  heart-breaker,  or 
should  have  been,  at  least.  Jennie  acted  as  though 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS  III. 

she  thought  more  of  me  than  she  did  of  the  brin- 
dle  cow,  and  I  commenced  to  think  that  without 
her,  life  for  me  would  be  but  a  life  of  snow-storms 
and  earthquakes;  but  time  called  me  hence.  The 
worst  feature  of  a  visit  with  home  folks  now  came, 
the  time  when  farewell  must  again  be  uttered. 
While  the  thought  of  a  visit  at  home  is  one  very 
pleasant  to  a  boy,  after  having  been  away  for  a 
year  or  two,  the  thought  of  returning  to  his  place 
of  labor  among  strangers,  saying  farewell  to 
mother,  while  the  tears  are  rolling  down  her  cheeks, 
little  sister  crying,  and  a  very  heavy  feeling  about 
your  own  heart,  it,  to  a  very  large  degree,  offsets 
the  pleasure  experienced;  yet,  of  such  is  human 
life  composed;  we  must  taste  the  bitter  to  appre- 
ciate the  sweet. 

On  the  return  trip,  I  stopped  over  one  day  at 
Gentleburg  and  visited  with  Harry  Jones.  This 
marked  another  oasis  in  the  social  world  for  me. 
Harry  was  such  a  fine  fellow  and  such  a  friend. 
If  the  world  was  full  of  such  young  men,  human 
life  would  be  lifted  at  least  one  degree  higher,  and 
it  would  be  well  worth  living. 

Monday  morning  found  me  at  the  office.  Mr. 
Moneymaker  had  been  quite  busy,  and  had  been 
forced  to  secure  the  assistance  of  a  lady  during 
my  absence.  Business  did  not  boom  any  more, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  gradually  grew  worse. 

About  this  time  the  acquaintance  of  Billy  Good- 
fellow  was  formed,  and  has  continued  to  grow 
ever  since.  Partially  through  his  influence  and 


112.  THE    STENOGRAPRER 

partially  as  a  means  of  sociability  and  recreation, 
I  was  induced  to  unite  with  a  detachment  of  some 
sort  of  a  business  of  the  State  Militia.  We  drilled 
and  drilled,  and  learned  a  little,  but  it  was  a 
tough  gang,  to  say  the  least.  We  kept  it  up  for  a 
long  time,  then  some  big  fellow,  in  name  only, 
came  down  from  the  State  Capitol  and  saw  us 
drill,  gave  but  little  encouragement,  and  the  com- 
pany became  disgusted,  got  into  a  little  scrap,  and 
disbanded.  When  they  re-organized,  I  did  not 
fall  in  line,  although  the  second  attempt  made 
proved  successful;  but  my  ambition  to  be  a  soldier 
bold  soon  wore  off. 

Business  continued  to  grow  so  much  worse, 
Mr.  Moneymaker  said  he.  could  not  afford  to  pay 
me  the  salary  he  was,  much  longer,  and  thought 
it  best,  for  my  own  good,  that  I  look  out  for  an- 
other place,  in  the  meantime  he  would  assist  me 
all  he  could.  Under  the  circumstances,  this  was 
all  that  could  be  asked  of  him.  He  promised  not 
to  reduce  the  salary  for  a  few  weeks  at  any  rate, 
and  during  that  time  every  effort  was  to  be  made 
on  my  part  to  secure  another  place. 

Most  every  Sunday  was  invested  at  Deadville, 
coming  back  to  Butchertown  in  the  evening. 
During  the  time  of  my  probation,  one  Sunday 
evening  as  we  were  coming  in  from  Deadville,  I 
picked  up  a  paper  off  the  car  floor,  and  about  the 
first  thing  my  eyes  glanced  across,  was,  "Steno- 
grapher wanted."  The  next  morning  at  an  early 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  U3-- 

hour  my  application  was  in  the  mail;  it  was  one 
of  those  initial  addresses,  and  no  idea  could  be 
formed  as  to  who  it  was. 

Nothing  was  heard  from  it  for  two  or  three 
days,  when,  on  going  to  dinner  one  day,  imagine 
my  surprise  at  finding  a  letter,  in  answer  to  my 
application,  from  Messrs.  Cleanmen  &  Co.,  one 
of  the  largest  packing  establishments  in  the  West. 
They  requested  that  I  call  at  their  place  of  busi- 
ness, which  immediate  arrangements  were  made 
to  do.  That  afternoon,  Mr.  Moneymaker  did  not 
come  in,  so  about  3  o'clock  I  went  down  to  the 
packing  establishment,  which  was  some  two  miles 
away.  Upon  showing  the  letter,  I  was  ushered 
into  a  room  where  a  keen  eyed  man  took  me  in 
tow.  One  would  have  thought  by  this  time  my 
embarrassment  would  have  worn  off,  when  en- 
deavoring to  take  dictation,  but  such  was  not  the 
case  with  me.  A  large  cud  of  gum  was  being  un- 
mercifully crushed  and  re-crushed  in  my  mouth 
when  the  keen  eyed  man  said,  "Take  a  letter." 
The  system  which  I  then  wrote  was  one  in  which 
lines  played  a  very  important  part;  he  gave  me  a 
yellow  pad  of  paper,  no  lines  on  it  at  all,  and  in- 
stead of  asking  for  some  that  was  properly  ruled, 
made  an  attempt  with  what  was  given  me.  He 
talked  and  I  wrote  at  it,  then  retired  to  the  type- 
writer room  to  transcribe.  The  gum  was  cut  with 
valor,  sweat  rolled  off  my  forehead,  and  after  a 
struggle  of  about  fifteen  minutes,  returned  to  the 
keen  eyed  man  with  a  sort  of  an  apology  for  a 


ii4-  THE  STK.\o(;K.\rin;k 

letter.  There  were  two  or  three  very  bad  breaks 
in  the  letter,  but  instead  of  pushing  me  out  of  the 
door,  he  took  my  application  together  with  the 
letter  just  ground  out,  and  told  me  to  follow  him, 
at  the  same  time  informing  me  that  he  was  look- 
ing for  a  stenographer  for  the  general  superintend- 
ent's office. 

We  looked  up  the  man  wearing  this  title,  who 
proved  to  be  a  fine  fellow  for  a  man  in  his  posi- 
tion and  build,  the  latter  being  of  the  corpulent 
variety.  Few  men  who  have  and  hold  sway  over 
from  one  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred  men  all  the 
time,  can  hardly  be  expected  to  wear  a  cheerful 
countenance  twenty-four  hours  every  day;  hence 
we  may  reasonably  expect  to  find  a  stern  man, 
stern,  but  exceptionally  good  for  a  man  in  his 
position.  The  keen  eyed  man  exhibited  the  let- 
ters; the  application  was  fine,  almost  a  perfect 
letter,  the  other  one  was  bad.  I  offered  the  ex- 
cuse that  there  were  no  lines  on  the  paper; 
this,  together  with  the  anxious  look  on  my  face, 
seemed  to  strike  Mr.  Smith,  the  superintendent, 
in  quite  a  favorable  manner.  He  cross-questioned 
me  for  awhile,  among  other  things  telling  me  I 
would  be  expected  to  furnish  my  own  machine, 
This,  of  course,  I  was  fully  prepared  to  do,  as  the 
machine  was  in  good  shape,  and  the  use  of  it 
weighed  lightly  with  me  just  then,  when  between 
me  and  a  position.  I  did  not  desire  a  repetition 
of  the  book  business,  nor  a  long,  fruitless  search, 
as  had  been  my  former  experience. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  115. 

In  a  very  short  time  he  told  me  I  could  com- 
mence next  day,  at  the  price  named  in  my  letter, 
which  was  forty  dollars  per  month.  .  Had  I  then 
really  understood  what  a  position  with  that  firm 
meant,  I  would  have  accepted  thirty  rather  than 
have  missed  it.  The  agreement  was,  I  should  go 
to  work  there  the  next  day,  so  I  returned  to  Mr. 
Moneymaker's,  about  as  happy  as  a  fellow  could 
well  be  and  live. 


CHAPTER  XL 

MVSTKRIKS    AND    MISERIES    IN    A    MAMMOTH 
PACKING   HOUSE. 

Mr.  Moneymaker  was  pleased  to  learn  of  my 
success,  and  arrangements  were  at  once  effected, 
v/hereby  I  should  change  places  the  next  day. 
Inasmuch  as  he  had  been  very  kind  to  me,  I  did 
not  feel  that  it  would  be  justice  to  leave  him  with- 
out first  getting  his  writing  all  done  up  in  good 
condition,  as  he  would  not  have  the  assistance  of 
a  stenographer  thereafter,  hence  I  worked  for  him 
until  in  the  afternoon,  when,  taking  typewriter  in 
hand,  I  meandered  out  of  the  office  and  started 
for  the  new  field. 

Only  then  did  I  appreciate  the  kindness  he  had 
shown  me.  I  could  not  expect  such  lenient  treat- 
ment where  my  steps  were  now  leading  me,  and, 
in  fact,  my  first  impression  of  the  packing  house 
had  not  been  at  all  favorable.  Everything  looked 
like  it  was  not  a  nice  place  for  a  fellow  to  stop, 
and  then,  the  atmosphere  was  thick  with  a  smell 
that  it  seemed  one  could  never  become  accus- 
tomed to  having  it  crowded  up  his  nostrils  all  day. 
It  was  such  a  large  place,  so  many  men  around,  and 
everything  taken  into  consideration,  when  com- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  117. 

pared  with  the  peaceful  little  office  my  lot  had 
heretofore  been  cast  in,  it  was  not  at  all  an  in- 
viting place. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  I  and  the 
typewriter  put  in  our  appearance  where  the  keen 
eyed  man  was,  handed  him  a  little  note  of  excuse 
from  Mr.  Moneymaker,  for  being  so  late,  and  we 
were  ushered  out  to  what  was  called  the  "slaugh- 
terhouse office,"  which  was  used  as  Mr.  Smith's 
headquarters.  It  was  a  terrible  dark  place,  yet 
clean.  About  six  or  eight  men  were  working 
in  there,  but  the  location  was  not  of  the  best. 
There  was  a  large  cooler  on  either  side,  and  day- 
light gained  an  entrance  from  but  one  end,  hence 
it  was  necessary  to  use  artificial  light  most  all  the 
time;  and,  although  it  was  on  the  third  floor,  it 
was  always  a  little  damp,  even  in  summer  time. 

When  getting  in  there  just  at  the  close  of  the. 
day,  things  did  not  look  particularly  inviting,  and 
I  really  wished  I  had  never  come  down  at  all;  was 
it  possible  one  could  live  in  such  a  place,  all  that 
noise  around  there,  the  clanking  of  chains,  moan- 
ing of  dying  cattle,  squealing  of  hogs  as  the  life- 
blood  was  oozing  out,  bleating  of  lambs,  all  this 
coming  up  the  stairway,  sent  the  cold  chills  over 
me,  and  once  more,  thoughts  of  the  quiet,  peace- 
ful farm  life  flitted  across  my  mind;  but  the  die 
was  cast,  and  there  was  but  one  thing  to  do,  that 
was  to  push  ahead. 

There  are  many  peculiarities  about  packing- 
houses, that  one,  not  familiar  with  their  workings, 


ll.S.  THE    STKNOCRAPHKR 

never  dreams  of.  There  are  also  many  astonish- 
ing things  connected  with  it  that  will  interest  a 
close  observer  as  long, -as  he  may  be  connected 
with  such  an  establishment.  Such  a  place  to 
study  human  nature,  such  a  diversity  of  people 
working  there,  such  a  variety  of  machinery,  and 
all  these  things  taken  together,  interests  one  until 
he  soon"] forgets  his  surroundings.  One  rarely 
ever  tires  of  watching  the  cattle  being  driven  in 
on  one  side,  run  into  their  little  chute  by  them- 
selves, from  whence  they  never  return  alive;  see 
them  fell  to  the  floor  with  one  stroke  of  the  mal- 
let, then  swung  up,  their  throats  cut,  and  before 
you  can  hardly  realize  it,  the  man  called  the 
"header,"  has  taken  the  hide  off  the  head,  turned 
it  back  on  the  neck,  and  severed  the  head  entirely 
from  the  body.  The  animal  is  now  past  danger, 
and  it  is  pushed  along  down  the  endless  chain  that 
is  constantly  in  motion.  The  blood  where  the 
cattle  are  being  killed  becomes  very  deep,  and  is 
run  off  into  a  gutter,  caught  in  a  basin  below,  and 
afterwards  dried  and  used  for  a  fertilizer.  The 
heads  are  immediately  picked  up,  and  every  par- 
ticle of  them  utilized.  This  is  one  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  a  packing  house,  nothing  is  lost  that 
can  possibly  be  utilized  in  any  way,  shape  or 
form. 

After  the  cattle,  have  their  heads  taken  off,  they 
are  thrown  on  the  floor,  partly  skinned,  then  hung 
up  again  and  the  remainder  of  the  skin  taken 
off,  then  dressed  and  pushed  around  into  the 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  IIQ. 

cooler.  All  this  moving  is  done  by  means  of  end- 
less chains,  consequently  there  are  cattle  moving 
in  every  direction,  on  what  is  known  as  "killing 
beds."  At  first,  it  always  frightened  me  to  go  in 
there,  and  it  seemed  impossible  to  cross  the  room 
without  being  struck  by  some  of  the  bleeding 
creatures  as  they  are  being  pushed  back  and 
forth.  This  place,  however,  was  one  of  Mr. 
Smith's  favorite  resorts,  and  after  having  worked 
there  a  few  months,  at  one  time  I  stood  there 
among  the  moving  carcasses,  with  book  in  hand, 
and  took  dictation  from  him. 

We  sometimes  hear  people,  who  have  heard  a 
great  deal  about  the  packing  business,  tell  about 
pork  packing,  and  how  the  hogs  would  come  in 
at  one  end  alive,  go  out  at  the  other,  lard  and 
bacon;  however,  the  struggle  of  "going  through" 
is  more  protracted  and  complicated  than  would  at 
first  seem  to  the  casual  observer.  It  is  true,  they 
may  slaughter  them  with  wonderful  rapidity,  yet 
the  curing  of  pork  is  a  very  particular  business, 
and  is  in  itself  a  profession.  The  pig  does  not 
allow  his  life  to  glide  from  him  as  does  the  cow  or 
sheep,  but  gives  all  within  radius  of  his  voice  to 
know  that  he  is  not  at  all  pleased  with  being  hung 
up  by  the  hind  leg,  and  complains  bitterly  when 
the  knife  is  thrust  into  his  heart.  When  we  think 
of  one  man  standing  all  day  long,  continually 
thrusting  the  sharp  knife  into  the  quivering  hearts 
of  the  poor  fellows,  is  it  any  wonder  he  goes  out 
at  night  and  gets  a  little  drunk? 


120.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

The  most  touching  scenes  around  a  place  of 
this  kind,  is  where  the  poor,  innocent  looking 
sheep  and  lambs  are  slaughtered.  They  lay  down 
their  lives  so  manfully,  and  rarely  ever  utter  an 
audible  complaint.  The  manner  in  which  they 
are  induced  to  the  slaughter  house,  is  unique.  It 
is  a  well  known  fact  that  wherever  one  sheep  goes 
the  others  will  all  follow,  but  it  is  often  very  diffi- 
cult, and  sometimes  next  to  impossible,  to  get  the 
first  one  started  in  the  direction  you  want  them  to 
go,  as  they  seem  to  cling  together  and  huddle 
closer,  instead  of  leading  off  as  a  bunch  of  cattle 
will.  The  plan  used  there,  was  to  have  an  old 
sheep,  familiar  with  all  the  hooks  and  crooks  of 
the  house,  take  him  over  to  the  stock  yards, 
secure  the  bunch  of  sheep  desired  to  be  taken  to 
the  house,  then  turn  the  old  sheep  in  with  them. 
As  soon  as  the  gate  is  opened  he  starts  back  to  the 
house,  and,  true  to  their  natural  inclinations,  the 
rest  follow.  It  is  a  very  easy  matter  for  the 
drovers  to  get  them  over  to  the  house,  and  as 
soon  as  they  are  fully  ushered  in,  the  old  sheep 
works  his  way  out  as  quickly  and  quietly  as  pos- 
sible and  sneaks  off,  leaving  the  poor  decoyed 
creatures  to  their  inevitable  fate.  Soon  he  is  hur- 
ried off  for  another  bunch,  and  so  he  works,  per- 
haps for  years.  I  have  sometimes  thought  if  the 
animal  creation  really  have  a  conscience,  such  a 
sheep  must  have  troubled  dreams  some  nights  after 
having  led  his  fellows  to  the  slaughter  all  day  long, 
taking  into  consideration  they  were  "strangers  in 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  121. 

a  strange  land,"  and  he,  used  to  the  ways  of  the 
city,  especially  after  some  days  having  led  from 
one  thousand  to  twelve  hundred  to  their  death. 

The  mode  of  slaughtering  the  innocent  sheep, 
is  at  first  sight,  touching,  to  say  the  least.  They 
have  a  low  table,  constructed  with  pegs  about 
eighteen  inches  high,  and  five  or  six  inches  apart 
along  one  side.  The  sheep  are  laid  on  that  table 
with  their  necks  between  the  pegs  and  their  feet 
on  top  of  the  sheep  before  them;  after  the  table  is 
full,  the  man  that  does  the  killing  comes  along 
with  a  knife,  sticks  it  right  through  their  neck, 
and  then  cuts  out,  thus  severing  the  entire  throat, 
then  bends  the  head  back,  breaking  the  neck.  It 
really  seems  too  bad  to  slaughter  them  in  this 
manner.  They  apparently  offer  no  resistance  at 
all,  but  meet  their  fate  with,  perhaps,  a  closing  of 
the  eyes,  kicking  a  few  times,  and  their  spirit  has 
taken  its  fight  to  a  realm  whence  no  man  knoweth, 
while  their  body  is  on  the  road  to  mutton. 

One  gradually  becomes  hard-hearted  as  he 
lives  around  a  packing-house;  so  many  knives, 
men  are  daily  getting  hurt,  chain  falling  on  their 
head,  knife  slipping,  or  something  happening  to 
scar  the  poor  fellows  up. 

There  are  some  parts  of  the  house  where  day- 
light never  reaches,  and  it  is  very  much  like  a 
coal  mine  in  that  respect,  the  large  coolers, 
the  freezers  and  places  in  the  cellars.  In  some  of 
those  places,  the  frost  never  goes  off  the  pipes, 
winter  or  summer,  and  the  climate  is  in  keep- 


I2«.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

ing  with  the  pipes,  hence  great  care  must  be  ex- 
ercised in  the  hot  summer  weather;  this  I  learned 
by  experience,  which  'resulted  in  a  large  doctor 
bill. 

It  was  so  late  the  first  afternoon  when  I  got  there, 
and  Mr.  Smith  being  out,  he  concluded  to  wait  until 
the  next  day  to  commence  on  me.  With  this  in- 
formation I  made  my  escape  about  six  o'clock. 
The  office  hours  commenced  at  7  a.  m.,  half  an 
hour  for  dinner,  and,  as  I  afterwards  learned, 
sometimes  seemed  there  was  no  limit  to  the  length 
of  time  one  might  be  expected  to  work  in  the 
evening,  before  office  hours  were  over.  The 
seven  o'clock  business  in  the  morning  was  a  set- 
tled fact,  half  hour  for  dinner  was  all  right,  and 
if  the  work  was  done  at  half-past  five,  then  it  was 
time  to  quit;  if  not,  when  a  fellow  did  get  through 
office  hours  closed. 

There  was  no  suitable  place  to  board  near  the 
packing  house,  and  as  I  was  somewhat  acquainted 
in  the  vicinity  where  I  had  been  stopping,  I  con- 
cluded I  would  remain  there;  but,  in  order  for 
me  to  get  down  to  that  place  by  seven  o'clock,  it 
would  be  necessary  for  me  to  rise  at  an  extremely 
early  hour,  as  compared  with  the  time  I  had  been 
rising.  Up  to  this  time,  half-past  eight  or  nine 
o'clock  had  been  office  hours,  and  the  office  only 
two  blocks  from  where  I  was  living.  Could  it  be 
arranged  to  go  two  miles  and  get  there  at  seven? 

The  old  lady  who  was  "master  of  ceremonies" 
where  my  room  was  located,  was  quite  good  in 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  123. 

some  ways,  but  as  cold  and  heartless  as  a  person 
could  well  be  in  others.  She  was  never  sociable, 
and  about  all  she  cared  for  those  stopping  with 
her,  was  for  the  money  she  secured  at  the  end  of 
the  month  for  the  use  of  the  room.  Some  time 
in  the  day,  during  my  absence,  she  would  arrange 
the  room;  other  than  that,  one  would  hardly  know 
there  was  such  a  person  about  the  house.  Every 
article  of  furniture  had  held  its  present  place  for 
years,  judging  from  all  appearances.  It  was  use- 
less to  think  of  depending  upon  her  to  wake  a  fel- 
low, so  an  alarm  clock  was  the  only  hopes.  This 
was  secured  and  perched  upon  the  table,  but  the 
rules  were  so  strict  about  getting  down  on  time,  it 
kept  me  worrying  all  the  time,  and  all  hours  of  the 
night  found  me  rolling  out  to  see  how  long  it  would 
be  before  the  alarm  was  going  to  perform,  until, 
sometimes  I  would  be  so  completely  worn  out  by 
morning,  it  would  voice  its  sentiments  and  never 
arouse  me  from  my  gentle  slumbers  at  all;  then, 
by  some  act  of  providence  or  otherwise,  I  would 
be  awakened  about  half-past  six;  On  such  occa- 
sion, the  near  route  would  be  taken,  and  this  on 
foot.  By  going  down  a  railroad  track,  crossing 
some  yards  and  going  along  the  river,  the  dis- 
tance was  Very  materially  lessened.  Two  minutes 
for  arranging  wardrobe,  and  the  soles  of  my  shoes 
would  commence  to  touch  terra  firma  occasion- 
ally. After  a  time,  custom  caused  me  to  awaken  at 
a  sufficiently  early  hour,  and  a  great  difficulty  and 
trouble  was  overcome. 


124-  THE  STENOGRAPHER 

Mr.  Smith  proved  to  be  so  very  kind  to  me, 
that  the  thought  of  never  being  able  to  become 
accustomed  to  packing  house  life,  soon  wore  away? 
until  it  finally  got  to  be  that  the  only  objection 
to  be  found  was  the  extremely  long  hours. 

Most  of  my  dictation  was  taken  after  six  o'clock 
at  night,  then  allow  the  notes  to  remain  over  until 
next  morning  and  transcribe  them.  His  mail  all 
being  local,  it  would  accumulate  on  his  desk  dur- 
ing the  day;  when  he  would  reach  the  office  about 
six  he  would  commence  to  go  over  it  and  dictate 
to  me  as  he  read  it,  thus  causing  me  to  remain 
any  length  of  time  in  order  to  complete  the  list. 
One  other  disagreeable  feature  was  the  Sunday 
work,  for  the  Sabbath  was  very  unbecomingly  ob- 
served most  of  the  time  around  the  place.  On 
Sunday  morning  we  would  not  have  to  go  down 
as  early  as  on  other  mornings,  and  would  perhaps 
quit  a  little  earlier,  nevertheless,  we  were  sup- 
posed to  be  there. 

In  this  place,  most  of  my  work  was  of  a  clerical 
nature,  and  an  elegant  opportunity  was  afforded 
for  learning  about  every  feature  of  the  entire 
business,  as  my  duties  called  me  to  all  parts  of 
the  plant.  It  was  really  interesting  to  study  the 
different  mechanical  arrangements,  all  in  motion 
at  various  portions  of  the  plant,  all  power  being 
received  from  large  engines,  perhaps  located  a 
block  or  two  away;  then  the  ice  machinery  proved 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  125. 

an  interesting  topic  for  study.  Ice  machines  are 
becoming  so  common  they  are  hardly  classed  with 
the  curiosities  any  more. 

In  December  of  this  same  year,  Harry  and  his 
family  moved  from  Deadville  to  Butchertown, 
purchasing  a  nice  place  there,  and  I  took  up  my 
abode  with  them.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  such 
action  met  with  my  hearty  approval,  for  it  was 
far  better  than  living  among  strangers.  In  order 
to  reach  the  place  where  Harry  lived,  from  the 
packing  house,  it  was  necessary  to  walk  across 
about  three  quarters  of  a  mile  of  very  lonesome 
neighborhood.  It  was  along  the  river  bank  all  the 
way  this  distance,  to  the  street  car  line  leading 
out  to  Harry's,  and  the  distance  was  dotted  a  por- 
tion of  the  way  with  some  very  suspicious  looking 
shanties;  the  other  portion  of  the  way  was  along 
a  railroad  track,  on  rather  high  grade.  In  the 
fall  and  winter  it  was  always  dark  when  coming 
along  here  at  night,  and  I  invariably  imagined 
some  one  was  going  to  murder  me  for  my  money, 
or  the  money  I  would  be  supposed  to  have.  After 
leaving  the  railroad  track,  there  was  only  a  path, 
the  river  on  one  side,  the  shanties  on  the  other. 

One  terrible  dark  night,  as  I  was  going  through 
a  very  lonesome  place,  there  was  a  fellow  in  the 
path  right  ahead  of  me.  His  actions  were  very 
queer,  and  there  was  no  question  in  my  mind  but 
what  he  had  it  in  for  me;  just  cut  my  throat,  take  my 
money  and  throw  me  into  the  river.  How  easily  he 
could  do  it,  nothing  be  left  to  tell  the  tale.  Though 


126.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

the  atmosphere  was  chilly,  my  body  grew  hot  and 
cold,  at  brief  intervals,  my  head  felt  funny,  and 
there  was  a  very  peculiar  feeling  about  my  heart. 
That  he  had  a  dark  lantern,  there  could  he  no 
question  in  my  mind,  cu  was  the  conclusion 
formed,  that  he  was  there  for  no  good  purpose. 
When  one's  mind  is  concentrated  on  a  certain 
thought,  it  is  wonderful  with  what  rapidity  it  can 
traverse  a  subject,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  that 
all  my  imaginative  powers  were  now  operating  on 
the  subject  in  the  path  before  me.  To  turn  and 
run;  would  be  but  to  show  that  I  was  afraid  of 
him;  this  would  not  be  wise;  to  engage  in  a  hand 
to  hand  conflict  would  not  be  wise  either,  unless 
the  case  demanded  it,  and  I  decided  such  would 
not  be  necessary  unless  I  failed  to  retreat  at  a 
sufficient  rate  of  speed  to  keep  out  of  his  clutches. 

Having  resolved  itself  into  a  case  of  where 
action  was  absolutely  necessary,  I  made  a  des- 
perate bound,  keeping  as  close  to  the  shanties  as 
convenient,  and  I  shot  by  him  before  he  could 
have  time  to  act,  and  to  say  that  sand  flew  for  the 
rest  of  the  distance  to  the  car  station,  is  express- 
ing it  mildly,  for  I  am  yet  confident  the  fellow 
was  hanging  around  there  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
getting  gain  in  an  unfair  manner. 

At  another  time,  as  I  was  meandering  up  the 
railroad  track,  after  dark,  though  a  clear  night, 
yet  not  so  desperately  dark  as  on  the  evening 
above  referred  to,  there  was  a  very  large  dog 
concluded  to  give  me  a  chase.  It  has  always 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  127. 

been  one  of  my  failings  to  have  a  dreadful  dislike 
for  the  dog  species,  and  on  this  occasion  my  love 
for  that  portion  of  the  quadruped  family  was  not 
increased  in  the  least. 

He  was  barking  quite  loudly  as  he  started  from 
one  of  the  colored  shanties  that  stood  off  some 
distance  from  the  track.  He  was  several  rods 
away  when  I  first  discovered  he  was  coming 
directly  at  me.  A  small  dinner  basket  was  the 
only  weapon  at  hand;  there  was  no  use  to  fight 
him,  and  being  one  of  the  number  who  believe  it 
better  to  be  a  live  coward  than  a  dead  hero,  I  at 
once  headed  down  the  track  at  the  top  of  my 
speed.  Mr.  dog  apparently  increased  his  pace 
about  this  time  also,  and  there  we  went.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  at  every  bound  about  ten  or  fifteen 
ties  were  being  passed,  and  the  bounds  were  being 
duplicated  in  rapid  succession,  too.  This  was 
kept  up  for  quite  a  distance,  but,  leap  and  bound 
as  I  might,  the  fact  became  apparent  that  he  was 
a  better  turfman  than  I,  for  he  was  unquestionably 
gaining,  and  that  rapidly.  He  had  the  steep  em- 
bankment to  climb,  but  it  did  not  detain  him  but 
a  very  short  time.  We  were  both  making  excel- 
lent time,  yet  I  soon  discovered  his  was  more 
excellent  than  mine.  When  it  came  to  the  point 
that  my  feet  would  not  more  than  leave  the  tie 
until  his  would  reach  it,  matters  were  entirely  too 
uncomfortable  for  further  procedure,  and  becom- 
ing convinced  that  ere  long  he  would  reach  the 
tie  before  my  hind  leg  had  left  it,  I  decided  to 


128.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

turn  and  try  to  cause  my  uncomfortably  close 
follower  to  think  I  was  dangerous.  Stopping  sud- 
denly, drawing  the  basket  up  as  though  death  and 
destruction  would  descend  with  it,  I  brought  it 
down  directly  in  his  face.  It  was  so  unexpected, 
he  stopped,  stepped  back  a  little,  and  by  my 
showing  considerable  more  bravery  than  being 
actually  possessed  of,  I  succeeded  in  persuading 
him  to  abandon  the  chase.  Such  occurrences  as 
these  did  not,  as  you  may  presume,  tend  to  make 
it  a  pleasant  walk  by  any  means. 

In  this  manner  I  worked  for  some  fourteen 
months,  not,  however,  without  an  increase  in 
compensation.  The  lessons  learned  were  of  fully 
as  much  value  to  me  as  was  the  currency  received, 
yet  both  were  accepted  gracefully.  At  the  end  of 
fourteen  months  something  occurred  that  caused 
me  to  think  I  would  be  able  to  forsake  shorthand 
altogether. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PROSPECTS    FAIR   FOR   ABANDONING    THE    ART, 
BUT   RETURN   TO    SAME. 

In  the  office  which  I  have  before  described, 
the  business  pertaining  to  sales  in  a  certain  por- 
tion of  the  city  was  handled,  cash  received, 
account  sales  made  up  and  turned  in  each  day. 
After  I  had  been  in  the  office  a  little  over  a  year, 
this  position  was  vacant  and  tendered  to  me,  and 
as  it  paid  more  than  I  was  getting,  besides,  being 
of  a  more  elevated  character,  or  at  least  appeared 
so  to  me,  I  took  it.  It  was  not  an  easy  task,  but 
rather  one  that  required  very  close  attention;  how- 
ever, the  promotion  caused  me  to  feel  like  one  of 
the  firm,  hence,  could  do  about  anything. 

About  this  time  we  received  word  from  a  lady 
friend  up  in  the  country,  that  she  and  her  boy 
would  come  through  our  town  on  a  certain  date, 
en  route  fora  distant  land  to  visit  a  relative.  Her 
experience  in  traveling  had  been  very  limited,  and 
of  course  if  we  could  meet  her  at  the  depot,  it 
would  be  nice.  She  was  a  very  nice  lady,  and  we 
would  be  glad  to  see  her. 

Just  as  my  luck  usually  was  on  such  occasions, 
Harry  was  out  of  town  on  the  eve  of  her  expected 


130.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

arrival,  so  my  lot  was  to  meet  our  expected  guest 
at  the  train.  While,  as, already  stated,  she  was  a 
very  nice  lady,  she  was  extremely  corpulent,  weigh- 
ing in  the  vicinity  of  three  hundred  avoirdupois, 
and  never  having  traveled  a  great  deal,  she  did 
not  take  into  consideration  what  trouble  a  cart 
load  of  baskets,  grips,  etc.,  all  filled  with  articles 
of  a  various  nature,  would  cause  in  changing  cars 
in  a  city. 

•  The  train  was  late;  after  ten  o'clock  when  she 
arrived;  the  boy  was  of  course  asleep.  One  glance 
told  the  story.  She  had  luggage  enough  to  swamp 
a  man,  the  kid  as  limber  as  a  rag  and  as  heavy  as 
a  piece  of  lead.  After  some  scuffling  around, 
visitor  and  her  luggage  were  unloaded.  I  grap- 
pled the  boy  under  one  arm,  clutched  what  luggage 
I  could  manage  under  the  other,  and  took  up  the 
march.  Visitor  carried  the  remainder  of  the 
rnoveables.  Poor  woman,  she  imagined  that  every 
bell  that  rang  in  the  vicinity  of  the  depot  was  ring- 
ing for  her  to  get  off  the  track,  until  it  seemed 
there  was  no  place  on  top  of  the  face  of  the  earth 
for  her.  It  was  necessary  that  all  my  persuasive 
powers  be  brought  to  bear  to  convince  her  that 
her  time  had  not  yet  come  to  cross  over  into 
eternity,  but  to  get  a  move  up  and  let's  be  going. 
After  worrying  street-car  conductors,  surprising 
the  natives,  and  encountering  a  few  other  difficul- 
ties, we  succeeded  in  reaching  the  point  of  com- 
pass for  which  we  were  steering. 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  131. 

Prosperity  seemed  to  be  my  lot  for  a  short  time, 
and  everything  passed  along  smoothly.  My  ex- 
perience in  handling  cash  had  been  so  extremely 
limited,  that  sometimes  it  proved  embarrassing  to 
have  a  pile  of  money  poured  out  upon  the  desk, 
and  one  night  when  balancing  the  cash,  it  would 
not  balance.  There  was  no  use  to  figure,  some- 
thing was  wrong.  Next  morning  I  tried  it  again, 
but  try  as  I  might,  there  was  a  shortage  in  the 
cash.  What  a  mean  feeling  it  did  cause;  not  so 
much  for  the  loss  of  the  money,  although  I  was  in 
no  position  to  lose  that  amount,  yet  the  thought 
of  not  being  able  to  account  for  it,  hurt  worse. 
The  cash  was  never  all  deposited  in  the  bank  at 
one  time,  so  the  shortage  could  have  been  carried 
for  months,  as  we  were  never  checked  up  very 
closely,  yet  the  terrible  uncomfortable  feeling 
made  life  perfectly  miserable  for  me.  I  did  not 
mention  it  for  some  time;  finally,  when  .Saturday 
night  came,  I  resolved  to  break  the  news  to  Mr. 
Smith,  let  come  what  might.  The  only  explana- 
tion that  could  be  given,  was,  that  in  making 
change,  or  counting  a  large  pile  of  small  money, 
gold  pieces  had  been  allowed  to  pass  for  some- 
thing else.  This  explanation  was  offered;  Mr.  Smith 
looked  at  me  in  a  manner  he  had  never  looked 
before;  yet,  even  while  under  the  stern  gaze  of  his 
keen  eye,  there  was  even  a  more  comfortable  feel- 
ing than  I  had  experienced  for  several  days  before. 
There  was  the  sense  of  having  done  the  right 
thing,  regardless  of  what  might  follow. 


IJ2.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

He  did  not  say  much,  and  there  was  really  no 
telling  what  to  expect  on  my  part.  The  next  pay 
day  I  took  from  my  pay  enough  to  make  up  the 
deficit.  Shortly  afterwards,  Mr.  Smith  came  in 
and  threw  down  some  money  on  the  desk,  and  in 
a  quiet  tone  told  me  to  take  out  enough  from  that 
to  make  up  the  shortage;  this,  he  was  doing  out 
of  his  own  pocket.  The  satisfaction  with  which  I 
informed  him  that  the  shortage  had  already  been 
supplied  from  my  own  pocket,  can  better  be  im- 
agined than  described.  He  gave  me  another  keen 
look,  though  more  pleasant  than  before,  yet  said 
nothing  of  importance,  and  matters  went  along  as 
of  yore.  This  lasted  for  two  or  three  weeks, 
perhaps  a  little  longer,  until  one  evening  Mr. 
Smith  sent  for  me  to  come  into  his  private  room. 

These  packers  had  branch  houses  in  most  every 
large  town  in  the  United  States,  or  at  least  a  great 
many  of  the  Eastern  towns,  and  some  in  the 
West.  Mr.  Smith  advised  me  that  they  were  hav- 
ing some  trouble  with  the  house  at  Gentleburg, 
and  asked  how  I  would  like  to  go  up  there.  It 
was  the  very  place  I  had  often  wished  to  live;  but 
the  question  was,  would  my  limited  experience  en- 
able me  to  do  the  work.  He  informed  me  that 
the  manager  of  the  branch  houses  had  enquired  of 
him  for  a  man,  and  that  he  had  recommended  me. 
After  studying  a  short  time,  I  asked  to  have  until 
the  next  day  to  decide,  to  which  he  of  course 
agreed.  After  consulting  Harry  that  night,  it 
was  decided  it  would  be  best  for  me  to  try  it,  so 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  133. 

the  next  morning  I  went  to  the  office  with  that  in- 
tention. Upon  investigation,  not  altogether  due 
to  inquisitiveness  on  my  part  either,  I  learned 
that  there  seemed  to  be  a  leak  in  cash  matters  at 
Gentleburg,  and  the  manager  had  enquired  of  the 
superintendent  for  a  man  that  could  be  trusted. 
Mr.  Smith  gave  me  a  very  favorable  recommenda- 
tion, saying,  that  whatever  I  said  could  be  banked 
upon,  and  that  there  would  be  no  question  as  to 
my  word.  Of  course  this  was  all  brought  about, 
or  largely  so,  at  least,  by  my  shortage  in  the 
money  drawer  and  the  disposition  made  of  it. 

Arrangements  were  made  for  my  departure  for 
Gentleburg,  which  was  to  take  place  the  following 
Saturday.  You  will  bear  in  mind  that  this  is  the 
place  where  Oscar  Jones  lives,  and  there  was  no  time 
lost  in  advising  him  of  the  new  change.  He  was 
of  course  pleased  to  know  that  I  was  coming  there 
to  live,  and  so  planned  that  my  stopping  place 
should  be  with  him,  as  his  people  lived  there  now. 
With  the  prospects  ahead  of  me,  the  old  ambition 
of  growing  rich  breaking  forth  anew,  the  excite- 
ment of  leaving,  and  all,  seemed  to  overcome  all 
thoughts  of  being  homesick  at  the  thought  of  leav- 
ing Harry.  There  was  a  sense  of  relief  in  the 
assurance  of  not  having  to  report  to  that  old 
slaughter-house  office  every  morning  at  seven 
o'clock,  month  after  month,  and  work  from  ten 
to  fourteen  hours  each  day. 

Sunday  night,  my  back  was  turned  upon  Butch- 
ertown,  and  after  a  few  hours'  ride  was  at  Gentle- 


134-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

burg.  The  circumstances  in  connection  with  the 
house  there,  were  not  as  favorable  as  my  anticipa- 
tions had  led  me  to  expect,  yet  it  was  more  pleas- 
ant, in  many  ways,  than  where  my  lot  had  been 
cast.  There  was  more  fresh  air,  shorter  hours, 
and  more  liberties;  besides,  my  duties  did  not 
keep  me  in  the  office  all  the  time. 

The  office  was  located  in  a  very  lonesome  part 
of  the  town,  especially  after  dark,  when  the  whole- 
sale houses  were  closed.  The  general  surround- 
ings were  not  inviting,  from  the  fact  that  one  of 
the  men  was  discharged  outright  the  morning  I 
went  there,  and  I  took  his  place.  This  would 
naturally  cause  the  other  fellows  to  look  upon  me 
in  rather  an  unpleasant  way.  The  manager  of  the 
house  there,  more  as  a  matter  of  policy  than  any- 
thing else,  treated  me  very  nicely  for  a  short  time. 
At  that  time  I  did  not  surmise  there  was  any  pol- 
icy about  it  for  him,  but,  having  had  enough  said 
to  me  that  I  might  know  how  I  stood  with  the 
house  at  Butchertown,  and  the  ones  who  held 
power  and  sway,  there  was  little  use  of  trembling 
from  fear  of  anything  except  unfair  play.  If  their 
policy  game  did  not  work,  that  they  might  resort 
to  this,  was  something  that  was  not  so  pleasant  to 
brood  over. 

The  accounts  were  in  a  dreadful  shape,  every 
stub  had  been  torn  from  the  check  book,  and  bal- 
ances forced  just  to  suit  the  occasion.  Entire 
charge  of  the  accounts  was  at  once  turned  over  to 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  135. 

me,  which  did  not  at  all  meet  the  approval  of  Mr. 
Brown,  manager  of  the  Gentleburg  house. 

My  home  being  with  Oscar  while  at  Gentleburg, 
I  formed  the  acquaintance  of  one  Timothy  Slo- 
cum,  who  was  also  a  stenographer,  and  who  has 
played  a  very  important  part  in  my  life  ever  since. 
He  was  a  stenographer  for  a  railroad  company 
at  the  time,  a  fine  fellow  and  one  who  was  quite 
congenial  to  me,  hence  we  soon  became  very 
warm  friends.  He,  together  with  Oscar,  caused 
life  to  be  very  pleasant  in  a  social  way,  besides, 
they  had  a  number  of  friends  there  with  whom  I 
soon  became  acquainted. 

Things  at  the  office  did  not  go  at  all  smooth; 
the  beef  kept  shrinking,  car  fares  ran  beyond  all 
reason,  Mr.  Brown  was  cranky  because  the  cash 
was  being  checked  up  too  close,  and  it  appeared 
everything  worked  together  for  the  common  evil. 
When  out  collecting,  they  would  arrange  to  reach 
the  office  about  6:30,  so  as  to  be  sure  and  keep 
me  there  until  seven,  settling  up.  Finally,  the 
fatal  day  came  for  Mr.  Brown.  In  his  turning 
over  the  cash,  he  reported  an  unreasonable  short- 
age at  a  certain  place,  which  of  course  to  him  I 
did  not  question,  but  the  next  day  made  a  per- 
sonal investigation,  and  discovered  that  he  was 
simply  making  a  steal. .  This  was  immediately  re- 
ported to  the  house  at  Butchertown,  although  Mr. 
Brown  did  not  learn  of  it. 

After  this,  quite  frequently  occurrences  of  like 
nature  came  up,  in  which  circumstances  spoke 


136  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

too  plainly  to  be  mistaken,  and  of  which  a  rec- 
ord was  kept  on  the  quiet.  Among  the  other  con- 
tingencies of  our  force  at  Gentleburg  there  was  a 
large,  tall  fellow  who  went  by  the  name  of  "Joe." 
He  had  been  a  second  class  prize  fighter,  something 
of  a  base-ball  sport,  but  had  proven  only  a  par- 
tial success  at  either  of  them,  yet  as  a  beef  handler 
he  was  a  success  in  every  particular.  To  handle  a 
quarter  of  beef  with  him  was  a  very  easy  mat- 
ter. His  past  record  was  of  a  very  gloomy  char- 
acter, and  he  would  sometimes  tell  me  stories  of 
his  cut-throat  experiences  that  would  cause  the 
cold  chills  to  run  over  me  when  we  would  be  in 
the  office  alone,  late  at  night;  in  short,  I  was  afraid 
of  him.  Owing  to  some  act  which  he  had  com- 
mitted in  the  very  recent  past  he  was  forced  to 
abandon  his  position  and  soon  left  the  town.  He 
was  a  wonderful  character,  and  although  what 
-most  people  would  term  "tough,"  there  was  an 
inner  nature  to  his  being,  though  seldom  brought 
to  the  surface,  which  was  admirable.  One  of  his 
noble  traits  was  to  eulogize  his  mother. 

Things  went  on  with  Mr.  Brown  at  the  head  of 
the  concern,  until  early  in  February,  when  matters 
came  to  a  focus.  Mr.  Brown  was  advised  that 
his  services  were  no  longer  needed,  and  a  new 
man  placed  in  his  stead.  -It  was  a  case  of  "from 
bad  to  worse,"  as  far  as  f.he  Gentleburg  house 
was  concerned.  The  new  man  had  been  with 
the  firm  for  a  number  of  years,  and  had,  as 
far  as  they  knew,  been  all  right,  but  the  tempta- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  137. 

tion  proved  too  much  for  him,  and  he  fell  back 
into  the  rut  he  had  escaped  for  years,  that  of  par- 
taking excessively  of  intoxicants.  For  a  time  he 
did  splendidly,  and  after  everything  was  running 
in  good  order,  I  went  back  to  Butchertown.  That 
the  new  man  partook  freely  of  intoxicating  bev- 
erages I  was  aware,  but  had  no  idea  [of  what  it 
would  soon  lead  to. 

It  was  not  at  all  pleasant  for  me  to  leave  the  ac- 
quaintances formed  in  Gentleburg;  for  even  though 
there  but  a  few  months,  a  number  of  friends  were 
left  behind,  when  returning  to  Butchertown.  The 
thought  of  again  facing  the  packing  house  did  not 
loom  up  before  my  eyes  with  any  great  degree  of 
pleasure.  The  purpose  for  which  I  was  sent  to 
Gentleburg  had  been  accomplished  and  of  course 
my  return  followed.  However,  after  my  depar- 
ture from  there,  the  new  man  became  such  a  fre- 
quenter of  places  where  the  flowing  bowl  was  wont 
to  hold  forth,  that  he  soon  lost  his  place.  On 
one  occasion  he  was  on  a  protracted  over-in- 
dulgence in  the  beverage  and  continued  so  all 
day.  He  locked  up  the  office,  and  would  not  let 
people  in.  When  called  up  by  telephone,  he 
answered  that  he  was  on  a  drunk,  and  not  doing 
any  business  that  day.  This  proved  fatal  to  him. 

For  nearly  two  weeks,  after  returning  to  the 
packing  house,  my  occupation  consisted  of  about 
anything  and  everything  that  came  along;  at  the 
expiration  of  that  time  there  was  a  position  vacant  in 
the  general  office  of  the  firm,  which  was  secured  for 


138.  THE    STENOGRAPH  Ilk 

me.  Thus  my  intimate  relationship  with  the  pack- 
ing house  ceased,  but  as  the  office  was  only  half 
a  block  from  the  slaughtering  department,  my 
situation  was  close  enough  yet.  However,  the 
hours  were  not  so  long,  and-  the  office  was  much 
more  pleasant.  My  duties  were,  part  of  them,  rather 
unique.  Part  was  in  the  stenographic  line,  only 
a  small  portion  of  it,  however,  the  rest  of  the 
time  being  clerical  duties  and  coding  messages. 
They  used  the  wire  extensively  with  their  branch 
houses  in  different  parts  of  the  United  States,  and 
all  the  messages  sent  to  them  were  sent  in  coded 
words.  This  might  seem  to  one  to  be  rather  a 
small  task,  but  when  taken  into  consideration  that 
sometimes  as  high  as  fifty  car  loads  of  meat  left 
the  house  daily,  and  a  list  of  the  contents  of  each 
car  was  sent  over  the  wire  to  its  destination,  it 
will  dawn  upon  the  mind  that  more  of  a  task  was 
involved  than  would  seem  to  the  casual  thinker. 
For  instance,  a  car  of  fresh  meat  was  billed  to 
New  York;  the  car  contained  so  many  cattle,  hogs 
and  sheep.  There  were  words  in  the  book  that 
stood  for  most  any  number  of  each  class  of  ani- 
mals; cattle,  sheep  and  hogs  all  on  one  page,  in 
different  columns,  but  one  line  of  figures  designat- 
ing the  number  of  animals.  Hy  gliding  down 
the  columns  it  was  an  exceedingly  easy  matter  to 
get  into  the  hog  column  when  you  wanted  to  be 
in  the  sheep  column.  When  a  branch  house  in 
the  East  would  receive  the  wire  giving  the  con- 
tents of  the  car,  they  would  sell  from  the  wire,  to 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  139. 

arrive  on  such  a  date.  One  evening,  soon  after 
commencing  this  kind  of  work,  my  eyes  wandered 
into  the  wrong  column,  and  instead  of  telling  the 
car  contained  one  hundred  head  of  dressed  sheep 
I  used  the  word  to  signify  one  hundred  head  of 
dressed  hogs.  The  hogs  were  sold,  but  when  the 
car  arrived  it  contained  sheep.  When  the  news 
reached  the  place,  I  presumed  there  would  be  noth- 
ing to  do  now  but  to  look  for  another  place,  but  it 
appeared  they  expected  a  new  man  on  the  job  to 
make  a  few  errors,  and  I  was  amply  gratifying 
their  expectations  in  this  regard.  After  that, 
greater  care  was  exercised  on  my  part,  and 
although  followed  for  nearly  a  year,  nothing  of  a 
similar  nature  occurred;  but  to  say  chat  such  a 
position  is  a  pleasant  one,  we  could  not.  The 
chances  for  errors  are  entirely  too  great,  and  it 
necessitates  one  being  constantly  on  his  guard. 

After  returning  to  Butchertown  my  stopping 
place  was  with  Harry,  as  before,  and  the  trips 
across  the  vacant  space  between  the  packing  house 
and  the  cars  had  to  be  spanned  twice  daily.  There 
was  a  friend  who  lived  up  in  our  part  of  the  town, 
and  quite  frequently  we  would  cross  this  space 
together  in  the  morning  as  we  were  going  to  the 
house.  One  morning,  he  went  to  cross  the  rail- 
road track  in  front  of  an  approaching  engine,  but 
missed  his  calculations  and  was  instantly  killed. 
He  had  but  recently  joined  the  benedicts,  and 
was,  from  his  own  story,  enjoying  life  in  a  sub 
lime  manner.  He  was  a  very  faithful  fellow,  and 


140.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

had  been  with  the  firm  for  years',  but  his  occupa- 
tion was  changed  very  abruptly,  and  without  much 
previous  consultation.  The  thought  flashed  across 
my  mind  at  the  time,  how  strange  it  was  that 
learned  men  of  our  land  should  puzzle  their  entire 
lives  and  endeavor  to  fathom  the  mysteries  of  the 
future  state,  yet  this  man  learned  more  in  two 
minutes  than  did  they  in  a  life  time.  His  in- 
formation was  of  course  of  no  value  to  us,  and  we 
did  not  care  to  follow  his  example  to  become  edi- 
fied in  this  particular  line  at  the  present  time. 

All  this  time  matters  in  a  social  line  were  almost 
at  a  stand-still  with  me,  time  being  so  occupied 
with  other  matters.  After  the  intimate  relation- 
ship that  had  in  years  passed  existed  between  Jen- 
nie and  myself  had  died  out,  like  most  young  fel- 
lows, I  lost  confidence  in  the  gentler  sex,  and  did 
not  lose  any  sleep  over  them.  Leisure  hours  were 
either  invested  with  Billy  Goodfellow  or  in  read- 
ing. While  this  sort  of  life  may  suit  some,  it, 
after  a  time  became  rather  monotonous  to  me;  yet 
all  this  time  my  social  qualities  were  being  cooped 
up  but  to  burst  forth  in  terror  in  che  near  future. 

During  the  year  after  having  left  Gentleburg, 
Timothy  Slocum  became  disengaged  with  the 
railroad  company  tnat  he  had  been  laboring  wich, 
and  after  rustling  the  typewriter  in  a  wholesale 
house  for  a  month  or  two,  secured  another  posi- 
tion with  a  railroad  company  which  landed  him 
in  the  little  town  of  Jolleyville,  located  a  long 
ways  south  of  Gentleburg,  and  also  south  of 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  141. 

Butchertown.  He  had  a  very  favorable  position, 
but  things  were  so  different,  and  among  strangers, 
that  he  was  dreadfully  lonesome. 

There  had  always  been  a  way  back  inclination 
about  me  that  suggested  the  railroad  business  would 
suit  me  far  better  than  anything  else,  although  no 
definite  plan  of  action  had  ever  been  mapped  out  as 
to  how  the  change  was  to  be  brought  about.  The 
place  now  occupied  by  me  was  very  good,  and 
everything  passing  along  smoothly;  the  code  words 
became  familiar,  and  often  whole  messages  could 
be  written  without  referring  to  the  book,  yet  every 
sentence  be  in  code. 

In  the  fall  of  that  year,  Timothy  wrote  me  there 
would  be  an  opening  in  the  office  where  he  was 
working,  and  asked  if  I  wanted  it.  It  was  real 
tempting,  but  the  compensation  offered  was  such 
a  slight  increase  over  what  I  was  then  getting,  it 
did  not  seem  wise  to  accept,  and  so  the  offer  was 
declined.  This  created  a  spirit  of  partial  dissat- 
isfaction about  packing  house  work  which  never 
left  me.  A  few  months  later,  another  opening 
was  reported  by  Timothy,  which  paid  something 
more  than  the  other  one,  and  considerable  more 
than  the  position  where  I  was,  so,  after  due  con- 
sideration and  figuring  both  pro  and  con,  I  de- 
cided to  take  it.  The  opening  would  occur  the 
first  of  the  year,  and  all  arrangements  were  made 
accordingly. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LIFE  IN  A  NEW  FIELD — RAILROADING THE  REAL 

TERRORS  OF  BEING  UNABLE  TO  READ 
YOUR  OWN  NOTES. 

It  was  on  a  cold  Sunday  night,  January  3d,  that  a 
south-bound  train  from  Butchertown  bore  what  was 
left  of  my  somewhat  demoralized  and  bewildered 
frame.  Little  did  I  dream  what  the  then  imme- 
diate future  held  in  store  for  me.  Had  such  in- 
formation been  in  my  possession,  no  doubt  the 
trip  would  never  have  been  taken,  but  Monday 
morning  would  have  witnessed  my  form  at  the 
packing  house  again.  There  is  no  doubt  but 
what  it  is  often  far  better  for  us  that  we  have 
never  been  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  solving 
the  mysteries  of  the  future,  for,  to  some  of  us 
such  knowledge  would  prove  a  curse  rather  than  a 
blessing.  While  it  may  be  wise  to  be  always  pre- 
pared for  an  emergency,  there  would  be  no  joy  in 
life  could  we  always  know  of  the  trouble  that 
would  cross  our  pathway  at  various  future  dates. 
It  is  human  nature  to  be  hoping  and  planning  for 
the  best,  and  even  though  we  may  be  bitterly  dis- 
appointed in  some  cherished  anticipation,  never- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  143. 

theless  we  have  had  some  enjoyment  which  neither 
principalities  nor  powers  can  rend  from  us,  in  the 
now  disappointed  hope. 

As  the  train  whirled  along  that  night,  the 
thoughts  of  being  severed  from  acquaintances  and 
friends,  also  losing  the  home  which  had  been 
afforded  me  with  Harry,  weighed  not  a  little  upon 
my  mind;  but  the  thought  of  living  in  a  small 
town,  together  with  railroad  work,  was  a  sort  of 
balm  for  my  wounds.  Besides  this,  there  would 
be  the  association  of  Timothy;  all  these  things 
being  considered,  the  thoughts  of  the  future  were 
pictured  in  rather  more  glowing  colors  before  me, 
than  they  otherwise  would  have  been.  There  was 
one  thing  about  it  that  every  person  should  take 
into  consideration  when  making  a  change  in  occu- 
pation of  this  kind,  and  that  is,  we  are  changing  a 
certainty  for  an  uncertainty,  and  unless  the  cir- 
cumstances are  much  in  favor  of  the  change, 
great  precaution  should  be  exercised.  I  have 
often  wondered  at  the  itinerant  disposition  of 
many  stenographers,  and  my  advice  would  be  to 
stick  to  a  good  place  when  you  get  it,  and  don't 
think  every  other  fellow  in  the  country  has  a  snap 
but  you. 

There  was  one  other  fellow  from  Gentleburg, 
by  the  name  of  Sam  Perfumery,  with  whom  I  was 
slightly  acquainted,  working  for  this  same  com- 
pany with  Timothy;  with  these  two  we  could 
doubtless  pass  our  leisure  hours  profitably  and 
pleasantly. 


144-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

On  reaching  Jolleyville,  both  Timothy  and  Sam 
met  me  at  the  depot.  This  town  was  fine,  about 
ten  thousand  population,  and  beautifully  located 
on  a  rolling  prairie.  The  streets  and  yards  were 
all  set  with  trees,  and  while  everything  was  of 
course  barren  now,  one  could  not  help  but  see  it 
must  be  very  beautiful  in  the  summer. 

The  boys  were  both  stopping  at  the  hotel,  and, 
as  would  naturally  follow,  my  name  was  placed 
on  the  register  at  the  same  place.  So  far,  every- 
thing had  passed  along  very  nicely,  but  now  the 
time  had  come.  Up  to  this  time  my  stenographic 
life  had  consisted  in  a  very  few  letters  each  day, 
and  never  had  I  held  a  place  where  all  the  work 
was  stenographic  and  typewriting;  but  now  a  new 
era  was  to  open  up.  With  the  exception  of  what 
experience  one  could  get  in  the  traffic  department 
of  a  large  firm,.  I  was  ignorant  concerning  rail- 
roading, further  than  that  I  had  seen  trains  skim 
across  the  country  and  traveled  a  little  on  them, 
walked  on  the  track  and  rode  a  railroad  tricycle, 
as  explained  in  previous  chapters. 

It  had  been  hinted  to  me  that  the  chief  clerk 
in  the  office  where  I  was  to  earn  bread  by  the 
sweat  of  my  brow,  was  pretty  rapid  and  hard  to 
take,  but  I  was  chucked  brim  full  of  confidence, 
and  thought  none  of  them  too  swift  for  me.  To 
hold  the  place,  I  found  it  would  be  necessary  to 
write  from  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  twen- 
five  letters  each  day;  this,  when  compared  with 
the  fifteen  or  twenty  that  had  been  my  number  of 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  145, 

letters  daily,  looked  extremely  large,  yet  anticipa- 
tion, backed  up  by  confidence,  acted  as  an  im- 
petus to  keep  up  my  courage. 

I  was  taken  to  the  office  in  the  morning  and 
introduced  to  the  typewriter  that  would  be  the 
means  of  my  making  a  livelihood.  It  was  a 
dreadful  old  affair;  looked  as  if  it  might  have  been 
used  by  Noah's  private  secretary.  Then  followed 
an  introduction  to  the  fellows  who  were  to  be  my 
dictators,  three  in  number,  and  every  one  with 
a  pile  of  mail  a  foot  high.  One  fellow  commenced 
to  dictate  to  me  as  soen  as  I  got  settled  down, 
and  it  appeared  he  would  never  get  through;  there 
was  one  redeeming  feature  about  him,  however, 
and  that  was,  he  did  not  talk  very  fast,  and  was 
just  as  good  to  a  stenographer  as  circumstances 
would  permit.  After  filling  the  note  book  about 
half  full  of  notes,  he  finished  up  his  desk  for  the 
day  and  the  typewriter  at  once  engaged  my  atten- 
tion. It  had  been  worn  so  long,  and  so  loose,  it 
was  like  an  old  sawmill  with  all  the  wheels  loose, 
and  when  scrambling  over  the  keys  it  made  a  sort 
of  rattling  noise  instead  of  a  clicking  sound,  as 
typewriters  are  wont  to  do.  The  rest  of  the  day 
was  invested  on  those  letters,  as  well  as  that  eve- 
ning, but  before  sleeping  the  book  was  clear. 
There  were  so  many  phrases  that  were  entirely 
foreign  to  my  limited  vocabulary,  hence  I  often 
experienced  difficulty  in  reading  the  notes.  Next 
morning,  man  number  two  tackled  me;  he  was 
not  quite  so  bad  as  the  first,  was  very  easy  to  take, 


•146.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

and  I  got  along  splendidly;  but,  woe,  woe,  the 
chief  clerk  had  not  as  yet  dictated  to  me  at  all. 
Timothy  had  been  doing  the  necessary  work  for 
him  until  I  could  get  a  foot  hold. 

The  chief  clerk  was  such  a  frightful  looking  fel- 
low, and  apparently  always  mad,  that  I  was  afraid 
of  him  even  when  he  was  not  dictating,  ami  it 
seemed  to  be,  as  I  have  since  learned,  one  of  his 
peculiar  characteristics  to  kill  a  new  man  on  the 
start,  if  at  all  possible,  and  especially  was  it  so  with 
stenographers.  That  he  had  it  in  for  me,  soon 
became  apparent,  yet  I'  anticipated  no  serious 
difficulty  in  taking  his  dictation.  Finally  the  other 
two  men  were  in  shape,  my  book  clear,  and  a 
large  pile  of  mail  on  the  desk  of  the  chief  clerk. 
It  was  now  or  never.  All  at  once  the  silent  monot- 
ony was  broken  by  "Get  yer  book, "spoken  so 
quick  and  sharp  that  my  poor  heart  was  in  uiy 
throat  already.  The  requested  book  was  flopped 
into  position  as  gracefully  as  possible  under  the 
circumstances,  and  pencil  in  hand,  we  started.  We 
started  together,  but  it  is  needless  to  say  we 
did  not  end  together.  He  commenced  spitting 
out  the  words  at  the  rate  of  about  two  hun- 
dred a  minute,  and  by  the  time  one  document 
had  been  finished  there  was  another  one  in  the 
works,  and  he  all  the  time  talking,  as  if  he 
would  like  to  chew  up  stenographer,  typewriter, 
desk  and  all.  I  was  just  a  "jumping  and  grab- 
bing," as  the  saying  goes,  "here  a  line  and  there 
a  line,"  but  still  he  went;  finally  he  distanced  me 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  147. 

entirely,  and,  during  one  of  the  brief  interims 
while  he  was  catching  his  breath,  I  managed  to 
swallow  my  heart  and  gasp  out  something  about, 
if  his  time  was  not  too  valuable  we  could  get 
along  better  by  not  becoming  so  hasty  in  our 
trip.  The  exact  words  used  can  never  be  re- 
called, but  sufficeth  to  say  it  only  brought  forth 
some  swearing  at  me,  and  I  was  there  and 
then  given  to  understand  he  was  not  to  be  in- 
terrupted in  his  dictation.  With  this  brief  rest 
(?)  we  started  again,  and  away  we  went  like 
unto  the  first  time.  The  sweat  was  rolling  down 
my  forehead,  the  pencil  was  getting  dull,  and  the 
note  book  was  but  one  conglomeration  of  scratches, 
dots,  dashes  and  scrawls.  Pretty  soon  he  had 
said  all  he  wanted  to  about  the  mail,  and  I  had 
a  few  clews  of  what  remarks  he  had  made,  but 
was  so  completely  tired  out  when  the  chase  was 
over,  that  it  seemed  I  could  never  read  them,  and 
there  was  no  use  to  try.  He  had  dictated  some 
messages  alone  in  the  mail  that  he  wanted  right 
away,  threw  the  stuff  over  on  my  table,  turned  his 
back  and  acted  as  though  his  time  was  worth  four 
hundred  dollars  per  niinute.  The  cold  consola- 
tion received  when  venturing  something  about  the 
speed  at  which  we  were  making  letters,  gave  me 
to  understand  that  there  was  no  use  questioning 
any,  but  to  go  to  work  and  write  them  off,  or 
throw  up  the  job,  that's  all  there  was  to  be  done. 
Some -of  the  letters  I  could  not  tell  where  they 
commenced  or  where  they  ended;  some,  I  could 


148.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

not  tell  who  they  were  to,  and  then,  tanglol  up 
with  all  that  muss  there  were  some  wires  to  be 
written  "right  away."  ,* There  was  one  thing  cer- 
tain, that  "right  away"  business  must  be  an  in- 
definite time,  for,  to  get  them  off  with  any  degree 
of  alacrity,  was  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Oh, 
those  lucid  anticipations  and  fostered  confidence, 
where,  oh,  where  are  they  now!  I  almost  wished 
that  there  had  been  a  millstone  tied  about  my 
neck  and  I  had  been  cast  in  the  deep  in  my 
youth. 

After  a  severe  struggle,  which  lasted  for  quite  a 
length  of  time,  a  little  batch  of  battered  up, 
scrawny  messages  were  put  on  the  desk  of  his  royal 
highness.  I  felt  as  though  I  would  like  to  crawl 
under  the  typewriter  until  he  looked  over  them, 
for  fear  he  would  commit  some  desperate  depreda- 
tion, or  kill  me  with  a  paper-weight.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve the  fellow  had  a  single  ounce  of  sympathy 
at  the  time;  or  my  looks  would  certainly  have 
moved  him  to  extend  a  little  courtesy  and  leniency 
toward  me,  but  he  did  not;  he  seemed  to  think  I 
should  learn  it  all  in  a  day,  take  dictation  just  as 
fast  as  he  could  possibly  talk,  and  then  transcribe 
them  instantly  without  an.  error,  have  them  look 
nice  enough  to  frame,  even  if  written  on  a  type- 
writer that  a  professional  could  not  turn  out  a  de- 
cent letter  on. 

Much  to  my  surprise  he  did  not  kick  very  hard 
about  the  telegrams,  scratched  a  few  of  them,  and 
by  writing  them  over,  they  went.  That  night 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  149. 

Timothy  went  back  to  the  office  with  me,  and,  as 
we  both  pretended  to  write  the  same  system,  or, 
in  other  words,  I  attempted  to  write  the  same  sys- 
tem that  he  did,  he  could  assist  me  very  ma- 
terially in  transcribing  my  notes.  The  trouble  was, 
there  was  so  much  of  it  that  was  not  there  to  trans- 
cribe, and,  then  so  many  scrawls  that  did  not  look 
like  anything  in  the  heavens  above  or  the  earth 
below.  Once  in  awhile  we  would  strike  some- 
thing we  could  read,  then  we  would  read  the  cor- 
respondence all  through  and  endeavor  to  fit  a 
sentence  around  the  word.  If  the  word  proved 
to  be  a  root  word  to  a  sentence,  we  would  be  all 
right;  but,  if  it  chanced  to  be  the  word  "it"  or 
"is,"  that  we  could  decipher,  it  will  at  once  dawn 
upon  the  mind  of  a  stenographer  that  it  would  be 
no  small  task  to  fill  in  the  missing  links.  We 
worked  until  nearly  twelve  o'clock;  worn  out  and 
weary,  we  went  to  the  room.  How  I  did  wish  I 
might  have  the  place  I  left  at  Butchertown  back 
again.  It  was  only  now  that  I  realized  what  a 
fine  place  that  was.  Before  going  home,  however, 
we  had  made  a  bluff  at  all  of  them.  There  was 
but  one  hope  that  I  would  not  be  let  out  at  once, 
and  that  was,  Timothy  stood  in  pretty  well,  and 
stenographers  were  scarce  in  that  part  of  the 
country.  That  the  letters  were  nothing  near 
right,  I  well  knew,  but  they  were  the  very  best 
that  could  be  done. 

The  next  morning  all  went  as  smoothly  as  usual 
until  he  came  to  look   over  the  letters,  and  then 


150.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

his  cup  of  indignation  "runneth  over."  For  a 
time  it  appeared  that  I  would  not  only  lose  my 
job,  but  have  to  fleeirom  the  wrath  to  come.  His 
wrath  finally  subsided  slightly,  and  he  committed 
no  rash  violence,  but  used  the  pen  freely  in  the 
body  of  the  letters.  A  great  many  of  them  were 
re-written,  some  scratched  up  and  allowed  to  go 
through,  and  some  dictated  over.  But  what  was 
the  use  to  try;  should  I  ever  be  able  to  take 
his  letters;  how  could  a  fellow  ever  have  anything 
like  enjoyment  in  life  under  these  conditions. 

After  this,  for  two  or  three  days  he  kept  giving 
his  letters  to  Timothy,  and  would  rarely  ever 
notice  me  except  occasionally  when  something 
would  go  wrong  he  would  turn  around  and  cuss 
me  a  little.  There  was  one  fault  he  had,  from  his 
own  standpoint,  and  that  was,  he  was  cross  and 
cussed  so  much  that  it  failed  to  have  the  desired 
effect  when  the  occasion  demanded  it,  as  one 
would  become  accustomed  to  it. 

Timothy  was  a  congenial  companion,  and, 
together  with  Sam,  we  would  invest  what  little 
leisure  time  we  had.  This  time  was  very  limited, 
however,  as  we  worked  about  eighteen  hours  some 
days,  about  fourteen  on  an  average,  Sunday  ex- 
cepted. 

After  three  or  four  days  from  the  first  escapade, 
Mr.  Chief  Clerk  thought  he  would  give  me  an- 
other chase,  so,  after  remarkably  brief  prelimina- 
ries, we  started  again,  this  time,  at  about  the  same 
rate  as  before,  but  having  been  cautioned  by  Tim- 


HIS    LIFE    AXD    TRIALS.  151. 

othy  to  brace  up,  and  not  be  afraid  of  him,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  most  of  the  addresses  so  he 
could  tell  what  they  stood  for,  and  an  occasional 
sentence.  What  a  case  it  was  of  seeing  the  ter- 
ribleness  of  man's  inhumanity  to  man.  He  was 
but  working  on  a  salary  as  myself;  true,  he  was 
getting  more,  but,  nevertheless,  I  was  an  Amer- 
ican citixen,  just  as  much  as  he  was,  and  to  think 
I  must  be  treated  in  that  manner,  went  very  much 
against  the  grain.  Some  people,  in.  fact  a  great 
many  of  them,  seem  to  think  a  stenographer  is 
but  one  degree  above  a  machine,  and  sometimes 
they  talk  to  their  stenographer  as  though  he  was 
hardly  equal  to  the  typewriter  he  operated.  Such 
treatment  is  not  justice,  and  it  seems  to  me  if  men 
could  but  appreciate  that  their  stenographer  is 
a  human  being,  they  would  treat  him  with  more 
courtesy.  Were  I  in  a  position  to  put  in  a  plea 
for  the  stenographic  force  of  our  land,  it  would 
be  on  this  line.  As  a  rule,  they  are  fairly  well  paid, 
and  usually  do  not  have  to  work  as  hard  as  an  ordi- 
nary clerk,  but  it  is  a  lamentable  fact  that  they 
are  not  treated  from  a  social  standpoint  as  they 
should  be.  We  believe  that  any  conscientious 
stenographer  will  do  more  for  his  employer's  in- 
terests, if  treated  as  an  employee,  or  treated  as 
kindly  as  are  the  other  employees,  than  if  he  is 
used  as  a  dog.  He  is  presumed  to  know  every- 
thing, take  all  the  kicks  that  float,  and  besides, 
keep  his  mouth  closed  outside  of  office  hours,  of 
anything  pertaining  to  the  business.  If  a  steno- 
grapher does  not  try,  then  there  is  cause  for  find- 
ing fault;  but  when  he  is  doing  his  very  best,  he 
should  have  a  little  leniency  shown. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

STENOGRAPHER'S  LIFE  FROM  A  SOCIAL  STANDPOINT. 

If  there  is  any  department  of  clerical  work 
where  exercise  is  needed,  it  is  in  the  stenographic. 
To  sit  and  pick  away  at  the  typewriter  all  day, 
hammering  those  glass  keys,  becomes  exceedingly 
monotonous.  For  two  or  three  months  after  reach- 
ing Jolleyville,  Timothy,  Sam  and  I  formed  about 
the  extent  of  our  associations,  none  of  us  being 
inclined  to  lead  what,  in  modern  times,  is  termed  a 
sporting  life,  hence  we  were,  to  a  degree,  con- 
genial. 

When  the  weather  permitted,  as  a  means  of  ex- 
ercise, we  would  roam  over  the  prairie  for  a  mile 
or  two,  feasting  our  eyes  upon  the  beautiful 
scenery,  which  consisted  in  an  occasional  mole 
hill,  or,  a  little  stream  with  all  the  fish  hooked  out. 
Another  favorite  sport  was,  boxing;  in  this,  Tim- 
othy wore  the  medal;  I  wore  the  large  blue  places 
on  my  arms  and  chest. 

Sam  had  a  peculiar  failing  for  the  gentler  sex, 
and  we  had  not  been  there  but  a -short  time  until 
he  was  under  the  impression  that  at  least  half  of 
the  native  girls  of  the  town  thought  he  was  next 
door  to  perfection.  He  usually  dressed  as  though 


His  LIFE  AND  TRIALS.  153. 

he  had  picked  himself  out  of  a  bandbox  just  prior 
to  leaving  the  house;  low-cut  vest,  white  tie  and  a 
large  (imitation)  diamond  stud  in  front;  some- 
times, on  rare  occasions,  a  silk  hat  covered  his 
head.  Observing  from  his  actions,  and  his  talk, 
we  learned  that  he  was  very  much  impressed  with 
a  certain  young  lady  whom  he  had  seen  at  a  public 
gathering,  and  we  resolved  to  have  him  the  main 
performer  in  a  practical  joke. 

It  was  the  custom  in  that  town  for  about  half 
of  the  citizens  to  go  to  the  post-office  near  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  to  look  at  their  boxes,  or 
worry  the  post-master  by  asking  for  a  letter  which 
they  had  no  hope  or  real  expectation  of  getting. 
The  young  ladies  of  the  town  took  a  very  active 
part  in  this  part  of  the  program.  Our  plan  was, 
to  write  Sam  a  letter  in  a  fine  hand,  describe  how 
she  would  be  dressed,  and  sign  a  ficticious  name, 
advising  him  that  she  would  meet  him  at  the  post- 
office,  about  six  p.  m.,  on  a  certain  date. 

About  six  p.  m.,  on  the  date  mentioned  in  the 
letter,  Timothy  and  I  walked  around  by  the  post- 
office,  and  who  should  \ve  see  standing  there  but 
Sam,  dressed  in  his  best,  and  sizing  up,  from  head 
to  foot,  every  person  that  entered  the  office.  We 
quizzed  him  with  all  sorts  of  questions,  and  kept 
him  in  such  a  state  of  excitement  that  I  doubt  if 
he  would  have  known  his  mother,  had  she  passed 
in.  Soon,  he  began  to  wear  an  uneasy  look,  and 
kept  growing  more  and  more  impatient;  such  a 
state  of  affairs  existed  until  about  seven  o'clock, 


154-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

when  he  gave  up  in  despair  and  went  home.  This 
was  huge  fun  for  us,  -but  for  poor  Sam,  judging 
from  the  disgusted  look  which  the  back  of  his  neck 
wore  as  he  meandered  down  the  street,  it  was  far 
from  being  a  pleasant  evening. 

While  Timothy  was  a  fine  fellow,  he  had  some 
failings  which  occasionally  got  him  into  trouble: 
one  was,  he  would  never  arise  in  the  morning 
until  the  extreme  eleventh  hour.  Our  pla. 
sleeping  was  located  about  five  blocks  from  the 
hotel  where  we  were  boarding,  four  blocks  of  the 
distance  being  on  the  principal  street  of  the  town. 
One  cold  morning,  Timothy  delayed  action  in 
arising  until  after  I  had  been  out  for  some  time; 
finally,  realizing  that  it  had  reached  the  ppint 
where  it  was  a  case  of  necessity,  he  arose,  arranged 
his  wardrobe  hastily,  or  pretended  to  at  least, 
and  rushed  down  the  street  at  no  slow  pace.  To 
the  pedestrians  who  were  on  the  street  it  \\a^ 
rather  a  unique  sight,  for  in  his  haste  he  had  for- 
gotten to  fasten  but  one  of  those  articles  used  to 
keep  the  trousers  from  falling  off,  commonly 
calles  suspenders.  This  poor  suspender  was  for- 
gotten entirely,  and  was  now  hanging  head  down- 
ward, below  his  coat.  One  can  well  imagine  the 
sight  it  presented  as  he  moved  rapidly  down  the 
street,  and  he  did  not  discover  the  mistake  until 
after  he  had  marched  into  the  hotel  and  was  in- 
formed by  one  of  the  porters  that  some  of  his 
wearing  paraphernalia  needed  adjustment. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  155. 

After  we  had  inhabited  the  place  for  two  or 
three  months,  our  acquaintances  began  to  grow, 
and  early  in  the  Spring  we  attended  a  little  social 
gathering,  where  we  met  a  number  of  new  faces, 
some  of  which  attracted  more  or  less  attention 
from  us;  one  of  them,  in  particular,  attracted 
more  than  usual  observation  from  me,  as  will  be 
seen  later  on.  Miss  Missionary,  for  as  such  we 
call  her,  was  somewhat  out  of  the  ordinary  in 
looks,  and,  as  experience  taught  me  afterwards, 
in  actions;  her  education  had  never  been  neglect- 
ed, however,  having  been  educated  in  a  private 
school;  morally,  she  was  almost  perfection;  but 
the  secret  of  it  was,  she  was  the  pet  of  the  family. 

Timothy  had  a  fashion  of  sitting  around  the 
room,  in  the  evening,  with  a  sort  of  a  far  away,  mel- 
ancholy look  about  his  face,  that  caused  me  to  think 
he  was  allowing  his  mind  to  meander  over  by-gone 
days,  or  else  he  was  thinking  of  some  one  left  behind 
in  Gentleburg.  My  persisting  quizzing  failed  to 
bring  forth  any  particular  light  on  the  subject,  yet 
my  suspicions  were  aroused  to  such  an  extent  that  I 
began  to  fear  I  would  be  left  a  widower  in  a  short 
time,  and  through  a  friend  in  Gentleburg,  I  gained 
such  information  that  enabled  me  to  corner  Tim- 
othy and  force  him  to  confess.  It  was  like  a 
thunder  shock  to  me  when  he  informed  me  he  was 
to  join  the  benedicts  in  the  coming  June.  This 
information  was  imparted  to  me  in  April,  and  it 
was  not  received  with  any  degree  of  pleasure.  My 
association  had  thus  far  been  almost  wholly  with 


156.  THE    STEKOGRAPRER 

Timothy,  and  from  a  social  standpoint  the  out- 
look would  not,  from  the  then  present  appearance, 
be  very  flattering.  There  were  two  months  left 
yet,  and  I  resolved  to  make  the  best  of  that  time, 
and  did. 

Among  other  things  in  which  he  was  careless, 
was  the  handling  of  money.  At  times,  every  cent 
he  had  in  his  pocket  would  be  piled  upon  the  ta- 
ble and  allowed  to  remain  there  until  morning. 
Repeatedly  cautioning  him  proved  to  be  fruitless, 
aso  I  resolved  to  avail  myself  of  the  first  opportu- 
nity to  teach  him  a  lesson.  One  day,  after  re- 
ceiving our  pay  at  the  office,  about  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  I  went  into  the  room  where  he  was, 
and  while  talking  to  him,  observed  that  his  pay 
check  for  the  month  was  hanging  on  a  small  bill- 
hook on  the  wall.  It  certainly  was  a  very  care- 
less way  of  handling  such  documents,  yet  there 
was  no  special  danger.  On  mentioning  the  fact 
to  him  it  only  brought  forth  a  laugh  on  his  part, 
which  but  acted  as  an  impetus  to  push  me  on  in 
my  scheme.  In  about  half  an  hour  I  again  vis- 
ited the  room,  and  the  check  was  still  hanging 
there.  I  went  around  behind  him,  and  was  talk- 
ing about  something  on  the  desk  before  him, 
which  of  course  attracted  his  eyes  in  that  direc- 
tion. I  was  then  standing  between  him  and  the 
check,  which  enabled  me  to  easily  slip  it  off  the 
hook  and  drop  it  on  the  floor,  and  with  one  foot 
push  it  under  the  desk.  Then,  in  a  jovial  man- 
ner, I  went  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  desk 


HIS    LIFE   AND    TRIALS.  157. 

and  sat  down,  all  the  time  keeping  up  a  conversa- 
tion, and  at  the  same  time  keeping  my  foot  at 
work  until  the  coveted  document  was  entirely  on 
my  side  of  the  desk,  when,  stooping  over,  I  picked 
it  up  and  slipped  it  into  my  pocket.  At  this  time 
I  had  no  intention  of  allowing  the  matter  to  grow 
as  serious  as  it  afterwards  did.  He  forgot  all 
about  his  check  until  after  he  had  taken  supper 
and  retired  to  the  room,  then  the  thought  came  to 
him  with  vengeance.  He  did  not  say  anything, 
but  looked  like  a  convicted  train  robber,  and  in  a 
mild  sort  of  way,  said  he  guessed  he  would  go 
down  to  the  office  a  little  while.  It  dawned  upon 
me  at  once  that  he  had  remembered  the  check, 
but  the  matter  had  gone  so  far  there  could  be  no 
harm  in  allowing  it  to  go  a  little  further,  so  I 
allowed  him  to  go  without  giving  him  any  satis- 
faction. He  went  to  the  office,  and  just  as  he 
was  going  into  the  room  where  he  worked,  he  met 
one  of  the  boys,  of  not  a  very  excellent  charac- 
ter, coming  out  of  the  room.  Imagination  caused 
him  to  think  the  fellow  looked  sneaking  and 
guilty.  I  went  down  another  street,  and  after 
waiting  for  some  minutes,  started  over  to  the  office 
just  in  time  to  see  him  coming  out,  in  somewhat 
of  a  rage.  He  explained  about  the  check,  with- 
out hesitation,  and  of  course  I  was  perfectly 
astonished.  He  then  related  about  meeting  the 
fellow  with  a  sneaking  look,  and  was  quite  posi- 
tive that  fellow  had  the  check.  After  some  per- 
suasion, I  prevailed  upon  him  to  return  to  the 


158.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

office  with  me,  and  we  would  take  another  look. 
We  did  so,  and  every  scrap  of  paper,  book,  and 
everything  else  in  the  office  was  turned  over  from 
one  to  four  times,  but  the  search  was  in  vain.  The 
blood  in  Timothy's  veins  now  began  to  become  a 
little  tropical,  and  nothing  short  of  a  round-up 
with  the  fellow  he  had  met  coming  from  the  office, 
would  be  any  balm  for  his  wounds. 

The  large  stores  in  town  had  a  custom  of  allow 
ing  any  one  to  purchase  a  small  bill  of  goods,  and 
in  payment  allow  them  to  present  their  check  and 
have  it  cashed.  In  this  way,  there  was  a  slight 
danger  of  the  finder  getting  money  on  Timothy's 
check,  but  the  chances  were  only  one  in  a  hun- 
dred. My  argument  was,  however,  to  try  and 
convince  him  that  any  of  the  stores  in  town  would 
cash  it  on  presentation,  if  properly  endorsed,  and 
that  this  fellow  could  sell  it  to  some  bum,  and  al- 
low the  bum  to  cash  it  and  leave  town.  He  final- 
ly believed  this  to  be  about  straight,  and  marched 
directly  to  the  hotel  to  lay  the  guilty  man  out. 
The  fellow  he  was  after  was  playing  billiards  at  the 
time,  and  Timothy  watched  him  for  some  time  with 
an  eagle  eye;  and  while  to  him  he  looked  actually 
guilty,  what  could  he  do  and  how  could  he  prove 
it.  He  watched  him  for  half  an  hour;  then  de- 
cided there  was  no  use,  and  we  started  back  to 
the  room.  We  had  only  gone  a  block  or  two, 
when  the  thought  of  advertising  it  in  the  morning 
paper  dawned  upon  him,  and  was  so  firmly  fixed, 
he  would  not  give  it  up.  It  was  now  about  ten 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  159. 

o'clock,  and  he  had  been  kept  in  this  worried 
condition  for  about  two  hours,  which  should  have 
been  enough  to  satisfy  me,  but  it  did  not.  Every 
effort  on  my  part  was  exhausted  trying  to  get  him 
to  give  up  the  idea  of  mentioning  the  theft  to  the 
newspaper  men,  but  he  would  advertise  it  or  die 
on  the  spot,  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to 
tell  him.  It  would  never  do  to  have  it  adver- 
tised; this  was  going  too  far,  so  I  told  him.  To 
say  that  he  was  mad,  offers  but  a  poor  explana- 
tion of  his  condition;  he  was  going  to  completely 
obliterate  me  off  the  face  of  the  earth  at  once, 
without  further  preliminaries,  but  the  street  was 
broad,  and  I  took  advantage  of  that.  I  did  not  get 
close  to  him  until  after  he  was  asleep,  and  the  next 
morning  he  was  all  right,  only  one  thing,  and  that 
was,  that  I  did  not  give  it  away  among  the  boys 
at  the  office,  which  promise  was  made  and  after- 
wards kept. 

He  was  like  most  other  fellows  when  pierced  by 
cupid's  dart,  he  was  boyish,  and  would  go  to  Gen- 
tleburg  at  every  opportunity.  Although  the  space 
intervening  was  over  two  hundred  miles,  he  did 
not  appear  to  mind  the  distance  at  all.  One  week 
before  the  occurrence  which  inaugurated  him  as 
a  benedict  took  place,  he  went  up  there  and  re- 
mained two  days,  and  while  there,  as  a  sort  of  a 
foretaste  of  what  was  to  follow,  he  procured  the 
license,  and  came  back  with  an  important  air, 
carrying  the  precious  document.  He  placed  it  in 
the  archives  of  his  trunk  and  allowed  it  to  rest 


160.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

there  during  the  day,  but  would  feast  his  wistful 
eyes  on  the  same  in  the  evening.  When  the  week 
was  up,  he  was  very  much  excited,  and  in  his 
rush  to  get  started,  took  only  what  he  thought  of 
first.  After  he  had  been  gone  a  few  hours,  I  re- 
ceived a  message  from  him,  stating  that  he  had 
forgotten  that  all-important  document,  and  for 
me  to  bring  it  up,  as  I  was  intending  to  go  to  Gen- 
tleburg  the  next  day.  The  poor  fellow  was  wor- 
ried over  the  matter,  for  he  did  not  know  whether 
he  could  secure  another  one  or  not,  and,  as  we 
may  well  suppose,  it  would  place  him  in  rather  an 
uneasy  and  awkward  position.  Despite  all  these 
inconvenient  and  unpleasant  experiences,  he  seems 
to  be  just  as  careless  about  such  matters  as  ever. 

He  was  gone  for  ten  days,  and  after  my  return 
from  Gentleburg  everything  looked  as  if  there  had 
been  a  funeral  at  the  room.  It  was  so  lonesome 
I  could  not  remain  there  alone  evenings,  and  in- 
vested a  greater  portion  of  the  time  at  the  office. 

In  the  early  part  of  June,  there  was  a  lawn  ten- 
nis club  organized  in  Jolleyville,  to  consist  of 
twenty  members,  and,  as  good  fortune  would  have 
it,  I  was  invited  to  be  one  of  the  twenty.  The 
invitation  was  accepted  with  open  arms,  and  this 
afterwards  proved  to  be  the  nucleus  for  many 
pleasant  hours.  The  club  was  to  consist  of  ten 
gentlemen  and  ten  ladies,  its  object  being  for 
pleasure  more  than  becoming  experts  at  the  game, 
and  this  being  the  object,  it  was  a  flattering  suc- 
cess. It  worked  something  after  this  fashion:  The 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  l6l. 

club  met  every  night  about  six,  and  would  play 
until  about  eight,  sometimes  a  little  later,  in  other 
words,  just  as  long  as  the  balls  could  be  seen. 
Then  a  general  conversation  would  follow  for  a 
few  minutes,  sometimes  longer,  but  in  nine  cases 
out  of  every  ten,  the  conversation  would  last  until 
it  would  be  too  dark  for  the  gentler  portion  of 
the  race  to  seek  their  several  places  of  abode  un- 
escorted. Of  course  there  was  no  harm  in  walk- 
ing down  the  street  about  the  same  time  some  of 
the  lady  players  did,  and  at  the  same  time  act  as 
their  "protector."  It  would  take  only  a  few  min- 
utes; but,  then,  when  arriving  at  the  gate,  just 
over  on  the  inside  would  be  a  very  inviting  look- 
ing hammock,  or  a  large  arm  chair,  the  dog 
chained  in  his  kennel  and  the  old  gentleman  asleep. 
Where  is  the  young  man  with  his  mind  in  its  nor- 
mal condition  that  would  whirl  on  his  heel  at  the 
gate  in  the  very  jaws  of  such  an  opportunity? 
Not  here,  I  assure  you,  and  the  consequence  was, 
it  would  be  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  and  often  later, 
before  my  humble  habitation  would  be  graced 
with  my  presence. 

It  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  human  nature, 
that  anything  we  are  successful  at,  in  any  kind  of 
sport,  or,  we  might  say  avocation  of  life,  we  take 
a  delight  in  it;  thus  it  was  with  tennis.  While  I 
never  hoped  to  become  an  expert,  I  could  hold 
my  own  and  could  do  somewhat  better  than  the 
average  in  the  club.  My  zeal  for  the  game  has 


1 62.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

never  relaxed  very  materially  either,  yet  the  want 
of  opportunities  for  playing  has  caused  it  to  wear 
off  some. 

During  all  this  time  I  had  not  forgotten  Miss 
Missionary,  and  while  I  endeavored  to  persuade 
myself  into  believing  differently,  the  fact  was 
nevertheless  apparent  that  her  appearance  on  the 
grounds  always  caused  a  queer  sensation  to  come 
over  me.  That  part  of  my  anatomy  which  pushes 
the  blood  around,  commonly  termed  heart,  would 
perform  its  functions  with  a  more  vicious  move- 
ment, and  somehow  everything  seemed  to  go  along 
better  when  she  was  there.  If  actions  are  any  in- 
dication of  matters  of  this  kind,  she  did  her  part 
to  help  the  case  along  somewhat,  too. 

Her  papa  was  of  the  antediluvian  type,  rather 
queer,  and  as  cranky  as  a  crocodile.  There  was 
one  redeeming  feature  which  was  largely  in  my 
favor,  however,  that  was,  he  was  quite  old  and 
sickly,  and  generally  retired  early  or  sought  the 
quietude  of  his  room  and  would  not  put  in  his  ap- 
pearance any  more  for  the  evening.  Their  lawn 
was  so  inviting,  it  would  make  a  pedestrian's 
mouth  water  when  weary,  and  on  reaching  the 
gate,  it  took  very  little  solicitation  on  the  part  of 
Miss  Missionary  to  induce  me  to  haul  my  little 
feet  inside.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  a  very  good 
plan  is  first  to  win  the  affections  of  the  dog,  next 
the  old  gentleman  and  lady,  and  then  the  coast  is 
clear.  Experience  afterwards  taught  me  it  was  the 
only  way  to  attack  that  family,  but  I  thought  life 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  163 

was  too  short,  and  as  long  as  the  dog  was  chained 
and  the  old  gentleman  remained  under  cover,  I 
did  not  worry  about  which  way  the  wind  blew. 

Competition  is  the  life  of  trade,  to  be  sure,  but 
in  some  cases  too  much  competition  works  hard- 
ships. In  the  commercial  world  competition  has 
become  almost  a  necessity,  and  is  doubtless  one 
of  the  saving  features  of  the  human  family.  It  is 
the  strict  competition  in  the  boarding  house  busi- 
ness that  enables  the  poor  stenographer  to  rush 
out  at  noon  and  get  his  lunch  for  twenty  cents; 
fifteen,  if  times  are  hard,  and  ten  towards  the  lat- 
ter end  of  the  month  when  he  receives  his  salary 
in  monthly  installments;  but,  as  stated  above, 
there  is  competition  that  unquestionably  does 
more  harm  than  good. 

About  the  time  I  commenced  to  think  the  girl 
and  the  front  yard  and  the  hammock  and  the  arm 
chair  were  something  entirely  out  of  the  ordinary, 
there  was  another  fellow  formed  the  same  opinion 
of  the  same  outfit.  Of  all  the  miserable,  compli- 
cated, disgusting,  competitions  'on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  such  as  this,  is  the  worst.  It  makes  a  fel- 
low wish  he  might  have  ceased  to  exist  in  his 
youth,  and  to  keep  up  with  the  procession  and 
look  finer  than  that  other  whelp,  he  will  shine  his 
shoes  twice  a  day,  shave  three  or  four  times  a 
week  and  change  shirts  just  as  often  as  he  can 
afford  it.  Then  he  has  got  to  take  her  to  every- 
thing that  comes  along,  for  if  he  don't,  the  other 
fellow  will,  and  ice  cream  entertainments,  picnics, 


164.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

circuses,  shows,  theatres,  livery  bill  and  every- 
thing in  this  line  has  to  go.  My  brother  steno, 
let  me  drop  you  a  little  advice:  When  you  get  in 
this  kind  of  a  fix  don't  try  to  buy  yourself  out;  I 
tried  that;  consequently,  other  fellows  got  all  the 
money  I  hammered  glass  for.  Mr.  Spectacles  (as 
that  was  the  name  of  my  competitor  in  this  trans- 
action) never  seemed  to  have  very  good  sense 
(perhaps  he  thought  the  same  of  me),  but,  never- 
theless, he  kept  grasping  every  opportunity,  which 
was  only  semi-occasionally,  as  he  valued  money 
more  than  did  I.  Another  place  where  he  always 
wore  the  winning  badge,  and  that  was,  he  was  a 
member  of  "our  Sunday  school"  which  I  was  not. 

There  was  a  member  of  the  tennis  club  who, 
on  account  of  his  peculiar  stature,  was  known  as 
"Shorty."  His  hair  was  just  about  as  red  as  it  is 
possible  for  hair  to  be,  and  he  was  as  comical  as 
he  was  little.  During  the  summer  the  burglar?  be- 
came very  numerous  in  Jolleyville,  and  it  was  al- 
most a  nightly  occurrence  for  some  of  the  villagers 
to  have  their  houses  plundered.  It  happened  also 
that  Shorty  was  a  stenographer,  which  caused  me 
to  have  a  friendly  feeling  toward  him. 

One  eventful  evening,  the  house  where  Shorty 
stopped  was  entered  and  many  articles  of  his 
wearing  apparel  was  confiscated  by  the  klepno- 
manial  abstraction.  Among  other  things  was  a 
pair  of  socks.  As  would  naturally  follow,  the 
club  sympathized  with  him,  and  in  a  quiet  man- 
ner a  subscription  paper  was  circulated  with  the 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  165. 

express  purpose  of  buying  a  pair  of  socks.  The 
subscription  was  quite  liberal,  and  an  elegant  pair 
of  the  nether  garment  was  purchased,  but  the 
color  was  loud  and  flashy.  A  special  meeting  of 
the  club  was  called,  and  after  dispensing  with  nec- 
essary business,  a  presentation  speech  was  made, 
in  which  Shorty  was  presented  with  the  half-hose, 
in  behalf  of  the  society.  This  was  the  first  knowl- 
edge he  had  of  anything  of  the  kind  being  on  foot, 
and  he  drew  up  until  he  looked  like  but  a  kid. 

Shorty  was  a  first-class  stenographer,  and  one  of 
the  many  feats  he  performed,  acting  in  that  capac- 
ity was  to  read  the  notes  of  Mr.  Jones,  one  of  his 
dictators.  Mr.  Jones  had  formerly  been  a  steno- 
grapher and  they  both  wrote  the  same  system. 
Mr.  J.  would  sometimes  take  work  to  his  home 
and  would  write  the  letters  out  in  shorthand  and 
the  'next  morning  Shorty  would  transcribe  the 
notes  without  difficulty.  This  was  somewhat  mar- 
velous to  me,  as  it  was  all  that  I  could  do  to  read 
my  own  notes,  and  that  when  they  were  fresh  and 
juicy;  after  they  were  a  little  cold  and  congealed 
it  was  extremely  uphill  work,  and  after  real  cold, 
an  impossibility 

By  the  middle  of  Summer,  the  work  had  be- 
come so  familiar  to  me,  and  my  dictators  were 
not  quite  so  rapid,  or  so  I  thought,  at  least,  and 
the  miserable  sieges  that  had  been  experienced  by 
me  in  the  beginning  now  became  more  easy,  and 
sometimes  two  or  three  weeks  would  pass  without 
any  serious  trouble,  then  the  one  who  had  given 


I  66.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

me  so  much  trouble  all  along,  the  chief  clerk, 
would  be  angry  when  he  commenced  to  dictate, 
and  trouble  would  invariably  follow,  and  does  to 
this  day,  for  it  is  an  impossibility  for  me  to  cope 
with  the  circumstances  on  such  occasions. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CIRCUMSTANCES    SUCH,    A    HEALTHY   REALIZATION 

FOLLOWS  THAT  A  STENOGRAPHER 

IS  NOT  A  MACHINE. 

Timothy's  joining  the  benedicts  broke  the  bands 
that  had  bound  him,  Sam  and  me  together,  and  from 
that  time  we  gradually  drifted  apart  in  a  social 
way.  Sara  fell  in  with  a  very  nice  family,  took 
up  his  abode  there,  and  afterwards  married  the 
fair  damsel  of  the  place.  Whether  he  was  for- 
tunate or  not,  time  alone  will  answer.  In  his 
estimation  he  had  captured  a  pri/.e,  as  most  peo- 
ple imagine  they  have  when  first  married,  but  in 
many  cases  the  gold  soon  wears  off. 

Soon  after  Timothy  left  me,  I  changed  my  place 
of  abode,  and  fell  in  with  a  very  nice  looking 
young  man  from  the  East.  Here,  I  tried  my  hand 
as  a  reformationist.  This  young  man  had  been 
well  raised,  and  from  his  appearance  and  man- 
ners it  was  evident  he  came  from  a  good  family, 
but,  like  many  other  boys,  he  had  been  spoiled 
entirely.  He  was  a  first-class  man  at  his  business, 
shoe  salesman,  and  had  few  equals;  but  he  had  no 
more  judgment  with  money  than  a  child;  besides 
this,  he  was  inclined  to  sport,  keep  late  hours, 


I  68.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

and  became  altogether  disgusting  ere  I  was  through 
with  him.  He  would  receive  letters  from  his 
mother  requesting  him  to  be  a  good  boy,  and 
then  he  would  turn  over  a  new  leaf  and  come 
home,  may  be  for  one  evening,  early,  possibly 
two,  then  it  would  all  wear  off.  When  leaving 
the  house,  he  always  looked  as  if  he  might  be 
going  out  to  have  a  picture  taken.  For  several 
months  my  efforts  at  reformation  went  on,  until 
finally  I  had  to  slip  him  out  of  town  on  a  mid- 
night train  in  order  to  keep  his  creditors  off  of 
him.  He  was  in  debt  on  every  corner;  drug  men. 
hotel  men,  shoe  men,  dry  goods  men,  tailors,  and 
even  whiskey  men  mourned  his  departure.  The 
fact  was,  the  longer  I  worked  with  him  it  seemed 
the  tougher  he  got,  and  it  was  a  relief  to  get  him 
off  my  hands,  for  at  the  rate  I  was  reforming 
him,  I  was  afraid  he  would  soon  become  a  des- 
perado. He  secured  a  place  a  few  hundred  miles 
further  west,  and  last  heard  from  him,  he  was 
doing  well,  or  at  least  so  the  story  went. 

Early  in  the  fall  of  this  year,  I  formed  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Mr.  Vermont,  another  gentleman 
from  the  East,  who  was  principal  of  the  high 
school  in  Jolleyville.  Afterwards  our  associations 
grew  to  be  very  intimate.  As  there  was  a  vacancy 
in  the  tennis  club,  he  was  chosen  to  fill  said  place. 

Mr.  Vermont  was  of  very  light  complexion,  and 
in  female  attire,  with  a  wig,  would  have  passed 
very  nicely  for  a  lady,  had  it  not  been  for  a  few 
stragling,  red,  fuzzy  hairs  on  his  upper  lip.  His 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS  169. 

education  was  quite  complete,  and  fully  covered 
his  defects  in  looks,  and  he  performed  his  duties 
as  principal  in  a  very  credible  manner.  He  had 
a  failing  for  the  opposite  sex  which  hindered  his 
progress  somewhat,  as  his  first  assistant  was  a 
lady,  and  remarks  were  soon  afloat  in  the  school 
that  he  was  using  entirely  too  much  time  in  con- 
sultation with  his  first  assistant.  Such  matters  are 
always  largely  overdrawn,  but  that  this  was  bad 
enough,  there  is  no  question.  He  was  always  a 
warm  friend  to  me,  and  it  was  anything  but  pleas- 
ant to  have  to  part  with  him  about  a  year  later, 
when  he  returned  to  the  East.  His  welcome  let- 
ters are  regular  visitors,  however. 

All  through  the  Summer  and  early  Fall,  few  days 
passed  that  I  did  not  see  Miss  Missionary,  and  all 
the  time,  that  which  the  most  learned  of  our  land 
have  never  been  able  to  explain,  was  slowly  but 
surely  closing  its  icy  grasp  upon  me.  There  was 
a  sense  of  satisfaction  in  going  down  the  street 
about  the  same  time  she  did,  that  could  never  be 
explained  by  me.  That  lawn  seemed  finer  and 
more  pleasant  than  any  in  town;  in  short,  our  ac- 
quaintance was  ripening  fully  as  rapidly  as  it  does 
in  most  cases  of  a  similar  character,  and  all  are, 
perhaps,  aware  of  how  rapid  that  is. 

All  this  time,  however,  there  was  a  cloud  rising 
in  the  background  that  I  was  entirely  ignorant  of; 
the  old  man's  anger  was  ripening  about  two  paces 
to  our  acquaintanceship's  one.  I  thought  it  strange 
that  he  was  never  around  any  more,  but  went 


170.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

blindly  on,  regardless  of  the  approaching  storm. 
Mr.  Spectacles  was  the  Reverend's  right  hand  man 
and  a  regular  wheel  horse  in  "our  Sunday  school," 
and  was  continually  entwining  laurels  around  the 
old  gentleman's' affections  and  the  piece  of  meat  in 
his  breast  where  most  men  have  a  heart.  I  don't 
think  the  old  fellow  had  any  heart  at  all;  if  he  had, 
it  had  long  since  become  ossified.  The  house 
was  of  a  very  ancient  style  and  had  probably 
stood  on  its  present  foundation  for  twenty  years  at 
least;  the  furniture  was  rich,  but  very  old-fash- 
ioned, as  was  also  the  pictures  that  graced  the 
walls;  but  here  the  heartless  individual  invested 
his  time  brooding  over  thoughts  of,  I  don't  know 
what.  I  am  convinced  of  one  fact,  however,  that 
when  our  humble  frame  flitted  across  his  musty 
thoughts,  anything  but  a  pleasant  sensation  crept 
over  him.  Despite  the  old  gentleman's  efforts, 
the  fact  was  evident  that  slowly  but  surely  I  was 
gaining  ground  on  Mr.  Spectacles,  my  visits  were 
much  more  frequent  than  his,  and  on  the  more 
particular  occasions  when  anything  special  came 
to  town,  I  always  called  on  Miss  Missionary. 
"What  fools  we  mortals  be."  All  those  hard 
earned  dollars  and  shining  quarters  went  like  they 
were  to  be  picked  from  trees. 

It  is  said  that  the  rising  generation  may  profit 
by  the  experiences  of  others,  and  thus  save  them 
from  falling  into  many  pits  their  fathers  have  wor- 
ried through,  but  this  is  one  of  the  pathways  of 
life  that  nearly  every  man  wanders'  through,  re- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  171. 

gardless  of  the  advice  he  may  have  received  or 
may  receive  at  the  time. 

Timothy  and  his  wife,  by  accident  took  up  their 
abode  just  across  the  street  from  Miss  Mission- 
ary's, and  the  first  opportunity  possible  was  em- 
braced by  me  in  having  them  become  acquainted. 
She  seemed  to  like  to  visit  at  Timothy's,  and  so 
did  I,  consequently  we  reaped  much  pleasant  re- 
venge on  the  old  gentleman,  to  my  ignorance, 
however,  as  I  was  not  yet  aware  of  the  brewing 
trouble  or  approaching  catastrophe. 

In  the  Fall,  the  work  at  the  office  was  so  under 
control  that  it  rarely  ever  required  my  presence  at 
night,  and  from  two  to  four  nights  in  the  week 
found  me  at  the  wonderful  mansion.  The  fre- 
quency of  the  visits  was  partially  brought  about 
by  the  desire  for  her  company,  and  partly  to  be 
sure  Mr.  Spectacles  was  not  there.  Of  course 
every  time  I  would  go,  he  would  be  wrathy,  and 
when  he  would  go,  vice  versa.  How  strange  it 
was;  the  town  was  brim  full  of  the  fair  sex,  and 
yet  when  one  of  us  went  with  Miss  Missionary  to 
some  public  gathering,  the  other  one  always  went 
alone;  this,  however,  very  rarely  happened,  as  we 
generally  ascertained  beforehand,  and  the  other 
fellow  would  ostensibly  be  sick  on  that  occasion, 
or  be  too  busy  to  go,  when  in  reality  he  would  be 
at  home,  prancing  up  and  down  the  room,  doing 
something  else  besides  singing  Sunday  school 
songs;  or,  at  least,  my  part  of  it  was  performed 
that  way,  and,  from  the  disgusted  look  he 


I  72-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

would  have  on  his  face  when  we  would  accident- 
ally meet  on  the  street,  I  am  confident  his  was 
the  same.  One  night,  we  were  at  a  little  gather- 
ing, when  he  wished  to  speak  to  me  privately.  We 
went  out  into  the  yard  and  dropped  into  the  ham- 
mock together.  He  introduced  the  rivalry  sub- 
ject without  any  very  fancy  preliminary  remarks, 
and  we  were  both  stubborn  and  contrary.  An 
aggravated  coal  or  railway  strike  would  have  been 
easily  brought  to  a  reconciliation  when  compared 
with  that  conversation.  He  said  he  had  been  in 
a  number  of  similar  circumstances  before,  and 
had  always  come  out  ahead,  and  I  said  I  had, 
too.  But  both  could  make  such  statements  with 
ill  grace,  or  we  would  not  be  wanting  another  girl 
now.  I  knew  I  was  lying,  and  am  pretty  sure  he 
was,  but,  as  all  is  fair  in  charity  and  war,  I  guess 
there  was  no  harm  done.  We  remained  there  in 
the  hammock  as  long  as  it  was  either  pleasant  or 
safe,  and  then  went  back  to  the  house,  each  with 
his  mind  made  up  to  come  out  victorious,  or  die 
in  the  struggle. 

Talk  about  competition!  If  such  competition  is 
not  a  curse  to  mankind,  I  don't  know  where  you 
will  find  it.  About  this  time,  the  Americanism  in 
me  had  arisen  to  such  a  point  that,  when  we 
reached  home,  I  told  her  I  had  concluded  to  with- 
draw from  the  race,  and  perhaps  would  go  on 
farther  west  and  invest  the  remainder  of  my  mis- 
erable life  in  abstracting  the  life-giving  blood  of 
Indians  and  wild  animals,  in  chasing  the  buffalo, 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  173. 

etc.;  got  a  little  romantic,  as  it  were.  She  cried, 
and  I  went  home  with  the  understanding  that  a 
final  decision  was  to  be  reached  a  few  evenings 
afterwards,  when  I  was  to  call.  What  an  exam- 
ple of  "men  are  but  boys  grown  tall."  I  was 
frightened  to  death,  for  fear  she  would  take  'me  at 
my  word  and  allow  me  to  go,  and  could  hardly  await 
the  appointed  meeting.  The  trouble  was  patched 
up  very  nicely,  and  it  was  several  weeks  before  the 
matter  was  brought  to  a  focus;  however,  one  even- 
ing the  affair  culminated  rather  abruptly.  I  pre- 
sume she  had  been  reading  considerable  romance, 
and  was  under  the  impression  that  the  only  proper 
way  to  wind  up  such  a  case,  was  for  her  to  faint, 
and  she  commenced  to  perform  in  that  manner. 
The  circumstances  were  anything  but  pleasant, 
for  to  have  called  the  folks  and  have  the  old  man 
come  in,  would  have  been  worse  than  meeting  a 
cyclone  on  the  prairie;  but,  as  romance  always 
runs,  she  regained  her  consciousness  in  about  the 
right  time,  and  we  patched  things  up  a  little,  with 
the  understanding  that  I  was  to  call  again  as  soon 
as  convenient,  to  further  the  patching.  Before 
that  evening  arrived,  the  old  gentleman  drew  the 
line,  and  I  was  forbid  placing  my  tiny  feet  on  his 
sod  henceforth. 

If  there  is  ever  a  time  when  a  stenographer 
comes  to  the  conclusion  that  he  is  something  more 
than  a  machine,  it  is  in  a  case  of  this  kind.  If 
he  has  any  feeling  at  all,  it  is  sure  to  make  itself 
manifest  under  these  surroundings.  There  was 


174-  TIIE    STENOGRAPHER 

nothing  to  do  but  treat  the  old  gentleman  with 
silent  contempt,  whip  Mr.  Spectacles  and  tell  the 
girl  good  bye.  The  first  was  easily  performed, 
but  the  second  and  third  were  different;  the  sec- 
ond I  did  not  wish  to  do,  and  the  third  I  did  not 
propose  to  do.  One  thing  was  certain,  until  the 
quarantine  was  lifted,  my  feet  could  never  tread  the 
sacred  soil  of  his  lawn  any  more,  and  an  attempt  at 
such,  would  have  perhaps  culminated  in  my  hav- 
ing to  scale  the  fence  with  a  dog  of  the  abbrevi- 
ated appendage  immediately  in  the  rear,  or  have 
taken  up  my  exit  at  the  business  end  of  a  shot- 
gun, neither  of  which  I  felt  inclined  to  do. 

After  doing  some  tall,  masterly  thinking,  I 
wrote  Miss  Missionary  a  letter  that  would  have 
touched  the  heart  of  the  sturdy  oak,  and  directed 
it  more  particularly  to  the  old  gentleman,  who 
must  be  respected  by  me  under  the  laws  of  cour- 
tesy to  the  aged.  After  this,  I  turned  my  back 
upon  the  whole  affair,  resolved  never  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  any  other  female  as  long  as  I  lived, 
rustled  up  some  of  the  boys  and  organized  a  bach- 
elor's club  and  resolved  to  so  live  and  die.  The 
rules  of  the  club  were  strict;  no  one  was  allowed 
to  walk  down  the  street  with  a  young  lady  without 
the  'permission  of  the  president  in  writing,  and 
three  visits  to  any  one  young  lady  in  a  week,  even 
by  consent  of  the  president,  the  guilty  party  was 
to  give  an  itemized  account  of  their  conversation. 
Our  resolutions  were  good  and  deep  founded,  but 
as  brittle  as  an  egg  shell.  Hardly  a  week  had 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  17-5. 

rolled  away  when  I  received  a  very  courteous  in- 
vitation from  Miss  Missionary,  to  call  on  her, 
stating  the  coast  was  clear,  and  that  peace  would 
reign  supreme. 

How  she  ever  managed  to  curb  the  old  gentle- 
man's temper,  I  have  never  been  able  to  learn, 
but  it  is  needless  to  say  that  the  invitation  was 
answered  without  the  least  degree  of  reluctance. 
There  was,  however,  a  very  heavy  shadow  of 
doubt  in  my  mind  as  to  what  it  all  meant.  Was 
it  possible  that  the  ossified  piece  of  meat  in  the 
antique  gentleman's  breast  had  softened  towards 
me,  or  was  it  a  means  of  decoy  to  get  me  over 
there,  and  then  have  him  pour  out  his  wrath  upon 
me?  Thought  kept  suggesting  the  latter,  but  un- 
der the  circumstances  a  fellow  could  almost  have 
faced  the  king  of  the  lower  regions  rather  than 
have  given  up  in  despair. 

I  went,  and  the  means  used  by  her  to  pave  the 
way  for  my  visit,  is  as  much  of  a  mystery  to  me 
to-day  as  it  was  then,  as  he  never  spoke  to  me 
again  except  in  a  case  of  emergency,  and  then  his 
words, were  spit  out  in  such  a  manner  as  to  cause 
the  cold  chills  to  creep  over  me. 

Often  and  often  have  I  looked  for  a  small  boy 
to  kick  me  for  ever'accepting  that  invitation,  but, 
under  the  somewhat  romantic  circumstances,  and 
the  blissful  anticipation*  of  bothering  old  Specks 
a  little  more,  it  seemed  neither  the  earth  below 
nor  the  heavens  above  lent  assistance  sufficient  to 
keep  me  from  yielding  to  the  temptation. 


176.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

I  gave  the  bachelor  club  the  slip  the  evening 
when  accepting  the,  what  then  appeared  the  very 
gracious  invitation.  They  never  learned  but  what  I 
was  at  home  on  that  date,  and  every  precaution 
on  my  part  was  taken  to  keep  them  in  such  bliss- 
ful ignorance.  The  boys  were  very  unruly,  and 
it  kept  court  in  session  most  every  evening,  for  a 
time,  at  least,  until  they  became  reconciled  to 
their  fate,  then  we  got  down  to  business,  re- 
organized a  German  class,  and  before  Spring  we 
were  pretty  fair  Dutchmen.  During  this  time, 
the  permit  business  was  often  outrageously  abused. 

The  ladies  becoming  acquainted  with  the  na- 
ture of  our  club,  decided  to  organize  one  of  their 
own,  which  they  did,  and  instead  of  our  accom- 
plishing the  purpose  for  which  we  were  organized, 
it  worked  right  the  reverse.  The  joint  sessions  of 
the  club  were  very  frequent,  and  banquets  given 
periodically.  At  the  close  of  the  year,  we  gave 
them  a  very  unique  banquet,  which  proved  some- 
what interesting,  and  for  a  time  entertaining.  Our 
invitations  read,  "Light  refreshments  served  by 
our  own  skilled  hands."  On  the  evening  of  the 
festive  occasion  oysters  were  cooked,  in  order  to 
have  the  room  highly  flavored,  and  candles  were 
so  promiscuous  that  the  room  was  so  light  it  daz- 
zled the  eye;  when  in  full  blast,  the  ladies  were 
escorted  to  the  dining-'room.  The  refreshments 
were  extremely  meagre,  but  the  numerous  candles 
caused  what  little  there  was,  to  be  fully  up  to  the 
expectations,  light. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  177. 

In  a  short  time,  the  ladies  gave  a  banquet  which 
so  discounted  ours,  that  we  quit  the  business;  and, 
to  make  a  bad  matter  worse,  a  union  of  the  clubs 
was  formed.  The  rest  of  the  story  need  not  be 
told;  the  object  of  the  formation  of  the  club  was 
most  unmercifully  trampled  under  foot. 

Sam  took  an  extended  trip  when  he  was  first 
married,  and  while  he  was  away  my  poor  machine 
ground  out  his  allotment  of  letters.  My  office 
hours  during  his  absence  were  almost  without  be- 
ginning or  end;  about  eighteen  per  day.  It  was 
at  this  time  I  made  my  highest  record  on  the  type- 
writer, writing  one  hundred  and  ninety  letters  be- 
tween times  of  sleeping.  They  were  of  a  good, 
fair  average,  but  the  mill  had  my  undivided  at- 
tention the  entire  time  except  while  endeavoring 
to  allow  the  other  fellows'  thoughts  drip  off  the  end 
of  my  pen  onto  the  paper  in  hieroglyphics,  which 
afterwards  I  was  presumed  to  transcribe,  and 
which  really  I  did,  partially  so.  On  one  occasion 
I  wrote  one  hundred  and  ninety  letters  between 
times  of  sleeping,  that  is,  between  8:30  a.  m.  and 
11:59^  p.  m.  I  was  so  miserably  weary  that  even- 
ing that  glory  had  no  temptation  or  inducement 
in  store  for  me,  or  I  should  certainly  have  written 
the  other  ten.  It  was  a  pity  I  did  not,  but  when 
the  girl  said,  after  having  walked  all  day,  "she 
would  not  take  another  step  to  see  into  heaven," 
so  I  felt  that  night;  I  would  not  write  another  let- 
ter for  love  or  money;  but,  of  course,  if  the  right 
kind  of  one,  or  large  enough  amount  of  the  other, 


178.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

had  been  at  stake,  perhaps  I  might  have  worried 
through  with  a  few  more. 

All  through  the  early  Fall,  after  the  old  gentle- 
man lifted  the  quarantine,  my  graceful  form  wend- 
ed its  way  to  that  beautiful  yard,  and  after  the 
evenings  became  too  cool  to  occupy  the  ham- 
mock, we  sat  and  gazed  into  the  parlor  grate, 
where  the  bright  fire  sparkled,  all  the  time  cupid 
getting  in  his  deadly  work  on  me,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  master  of  ceremonies  of  the  lower  regions 
getting  in  his  work  on  the  antique  gentleman.  The 
Fall  days  wore  into  winter,  and  on  the  cold  win- 
ter evenings,  with  my  body  wrapped  in  a  heavy 
overcoat,  my  tracks  left  their  imprint  on  the  beau- 
tiful snow  as  they  bore  me  toward  the  attractive 
habitation.  What  did  it  all  mean?  What  could  it 
mean?  We  had  both  positively  agreed  we  were 
nothing  but  friends;  but,  ah,  my  stenographic 
brethren,  beware!  the  mysteries  of  human  nature 
are  deep  and  extremely  phenomenal.  It  is  like 
taking  the  first  drink;  you  drift  down  the  pleas- 
ant pathway,  and  before  you  realize  you  have 
made  a  mis-step,  or  that  you  are  on  the  wrong 
road,  you  are  on  a  precipice  from  which  it  is  hard 
to  escape. 

The  old  gentleman  was  rarely  ever  mentioned, 
and  when  he  was,  it  was  usually  brought  about  by 
me,  and  it  never  failed  to  bring  forth  such  a  pecu- 
liar look  from  her,  that  for  fear  of  something  ter- 
rible happening,  the  subject  would  be  immediately 
diverted  to  more  pleasant  themes.  I  began  to 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  I^g. 

think,  what  kind  of  a  fellow  is  he;  my  acquaint- 
ance with  him  had  been  extremely  limited;  all  I 
ever  knew  him  to  do,  was  to  kick  and  go  to  church. 
When  on  the  streets,  he  always  looked  as  though 
he  had  no  friends  on  earth,  and  few  on  the  other 
side,  and  that  he  hated  all  humanity,  including 
his  dog.  This,  I  might  add,  was  the  appearance 
from  a  distance,  as  my  agitated  feelings  for  the 
beloved  would  never  allow  me  to  scrutinize  him 
very  minutely  at  short  range.  He  seemed  to  me 
to  be  one  of  the  kind  of  men  we  read  about,  lived 
but  to  die.  If  he  ever  got  any  enjoyment  out  of 
life,  it  must  have  been  in  making  trouble  for  oth- 
ers. However,  Miss  Missionary  thought  he  was 
about  right;  of  course  it  is  to  be  presumed  that 
she  knew  him  better  than  I  did,  but  if  such  were 
her  deep  grounded  conclusions  of  him,  she  had 
unquestionably  known  him  in  brighter  days.  His 
means  had  very  probably  been  secured  in  any  way 
possible,  and  possibly  some  unjust  act  of  his  past 
life  was  praying  on  his  mind  and  kept  him  in 
this  state. 

The  main  attraction  of  the  family,  and  the  one 
who  was  the  direct  cause  of  my  frequent  visits  in 
that  direction,  had  a  peculiarity  which  is  quite 
common  among  certain  classes,  and  that  was,  her 
great  desire  to  perform  some  sort  of  missionary 
work.  Some  distant  relative  had  been  instru- 
mental in  founding  a  missionary  school  in  Alaska, 
and  this,  together  with  the  reading  of  literature 
along  this  line,  had  a  tendency  to  incite  such  a 


l8o.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

spirit  within  her.  It  seemed  strange  to  me  how 
she  could  love  those  little  heathens  in  distant 
lands  with  such  an  arduous  love,  and  at  the  same 
time  detest  the  semi-clothed  African  descendants 
in  her  own  town.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  such 
was  the  case,  and  every  Christmas  she  would  work 
for  weeks,  preparing  presents  to  ship  to  those 
Alaskians.  In  this,  her  intentions  were  unques- 
tionably good,  and  she,  perhaps,  made  many  of 
those  little  chaps  happy  at  Christmas  time.  Such 
a  spirit  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  credit  to  anyone, 
and  if  properly  exercised,  a  commendable  feature. 
Mr.  Spectacles  succeeded  in  getting  the  Reverend 
gentleman  entirely  under  his  control.  How  he  man- 
aged it,  was  never  made  known  to  me,  but  in  the 
very  middle  of  the  winter,  when  everything  was 
going  on  merrily  as  a  marriage  bell,  he  suddenly 
broke  forth  with  all  his  terror,  and  put  his  foot  on 
me  for  the  final  trip.  He  who  laughs  last  laughs 
best,  no  doubt  thought  Mr.  Spectacles,  for  he  had 
been  decidedly  on  the  shady  side  of  life  for  some 
months,  but  now,  how  that  conversation  we  had 
in  the  hammock  some  months  before,  did  grind 
on  me  and  hum  in  my  ears.  There  was  but  one 
thing  now  left  to  do,  and  that  was,  act  the  man 
and  die  gracefully.  Friends  thought  it  rather 
strange  that  the  heretofore  warm  friendship  that 
had  existed,  or  presumably  so,  at  least,  between 
me  and  the  Missionary  family,  had  come  to  so 
•sudden  a  demise.  The  old  gentleman  knew,  and 
I  was  not  entirely  ignorant  of  the  cause. 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  l8l. 

The  best  of  friends  must  part;  so  it  was  with 
the  antique  Reverend  and  myself.  I  have  never 
crossed  his  path  since,  but  I  certainly  thought  at 
the  time,  if  he  did  not  increase  the. fuel  bill  in  the 
lower  regions,  when  he  took  up  his  departure  to 
dwell  on  the  other  shore,  I  would  miss  my  guess. 

Severing  the  bands  of  friendship  between  Miss 
Missionary  and  myself,  were  of  a  very  different 
nature,  and  of  such  a  character  as  not  to  warrant 
a  reiteration  here,  but  suffice  it  to  say,  it  left  such 
an  impression  in  the  archives  of  my  memory's 
storehouse,  that  it  will  probably  occupy  until  the 
bugle  calls  me  hence.  Had  the  earth  opened  and 
swallowed  her  up,  it  would  have  been  but  little 
difference  to  me,  as  circumstances  were  shortly 
such,  that  I  was  called  from  the  place,  and  have 
never  seen  her  since,  and  only  indirectly  heard 
from  her  once  or  twice.  After  being  called  away 
from  the  town,  and  thrown  among  strangers,  the 
associations  of  the  past  would  at  times  prey  upon 
my  mind  in  anything  but  a  comfortable  manner, 
and,  regardless  of  what  circumstances  may  be  in 
such  cases,  there  is  always  a  sanguine  feeling, 
though  it  may  be  in  the  face  of  the  most  unfortu- 
nate and  darkest  fate. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

NEW  HOME  AND  NEW   SURROUNDINGS PARTI  NI; 

WITH    FRIENDS    BUT    THE    INEVITABLE 
FATE  OF  A  STENOGRAPHER. 

Parting  with  the  many  friends  in  Jolleyville  was 
anything  but  an  easy  task.  To  think  those  scenes 
that  had  afforded  me  so  many  pleasant  occasions, 
must  be  left  in  the  back-ground,  old  faces  to  be 
forgotten  and  new  friendships  formed,  presented 
to  me  anything  but  a  pleasant  thought.  Being 
again  tossed  about  on  the  billows  of  life's  great 
ocean,  among  strangers,  would  not  have  been 
taken  by  me  as  a  matter  of  choice.  Such,  how- 
ever, is  the  inevitable  fate  of  a  stenographer;  he 
must  go  where  duty  calls,  and  duty  calls  where 
the  most  bread  can  be  earned  by  the  sweat  of  the 
brow,  and  for  me  to  do  this,  it  called  me  a  few 
hundred  miles  East,  into  a  much,  larger  place 
than  Jolleyville. 

Upon  reaching  the  place  that  was  to  be  my 
future  habitation,  some  of  the  old  feelings  that 
had  taken  possession  of  me  on  former  occasions, 
such  as  when  I  first  planted  my  weary  feet  on  the 
shores  of  Butchertown,  took  possession  of "  me 
again,  but  having  encountered  some  of  the  expe- 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  183. 

riences  of  life,  I  was  much  better  prepared  to  en- 
counter such  difficulties,  and  I  soon  became  recon- 
ciled to  the  rulings  of  merciless  fate. 

The  winter  just  previously  referred  to,  was  '92-3, 
and  while  circumstances  were  transpiring  in  rapid 
succession,  it  crossed  the  mind  of  some  intelligent 
being  in  Jolleyville,  to  form  a  club  for  the  pur- 
pose of  endeavoring  to  learn  something  of  what 
was  to  be  placed  on  exhibition  at  the  World's 
Fair,  which  was  to  open  the  following  June.  This 
club  was  duly  formed,  and  on  the  list  of  mem- 
bers my  name  appeared. 

The  meetings  of  this  club  proved  not  only  very 
interesting,  but  at  the  same  time  beneficial,  and 
many  hot  discussions  often  followed;  especially 
was  this  the  case  in  regard  to  the  Sunday  opening 
question. 

On  one  occasion,  with  a  view  of  ascertaining 
how  the  various  imaginations  would  differ,  it  was 
voted  that  each  member  make  a  guess  as  to  the 
probable  number  in  attendance  at  the  Fair  on  the 
first  day  of  June,  the  one  coming  closest  to  the 
number  to  receive  a  Columbian  half  dollar  from 
the  club.  The  guesses  were  all  securely  sealed, 
and  a  few  weeks  after  leaving  there,  my  surprise 
may  well  be  imagined,  when  receiving  the  much 
coveted  half  dollar,  together  with  a  letter  of  con- 
gratulations from  the  club. 

Among  the  rules  of  the  club  was  one  to  the 
effect  that  all  those  visiting  the  fair,  should,  upon 
their  return,  give  before  the  club  an  account  of 


184-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

their  trip,  and  incidents  pertaining  thereto,  and 
in  case  any  member  should  fail  to  return,  he  was 
to  send  a  written  report.  As  my  lot  was  cast  in 
other  climes  before  attending  the  Fair,  the  follow- 
ing is  a  brief  account  of  my  visit: 

"As  I  signed  the  iron-clad  constitution  of  the 
Jolleyville  Fair  club  last  Spring,  thus  binding  my- 
self to  give  a  free-handed  account  of  my  visit  to  the 
Fair,  I,  of  course,  went,  under  the  impression  that 
I  would  be  called  upon  to  make  such  a  report  upon 
my  return;  hence,  to  have  a  clear  conscience,  it 
will  be  necessary  for  me  to  give  you  a  brief  out- 
line of  my  quiet  and  uneventful  visit. 

After  planning  for  a  couple  of  months  for  a  visit 
to  that  much  coveted  spot,  casting  anchor  on  a 
number  of  dates  on  which  I  would  start,  and  be- 
ing disappointed  an  equal  number  of  times,  I  final- 
ly placed  the  anchor  on  the  fifteenth  day  of  Oct- 
tober  and  commenced  to  make  arrangements  and 
preparations  to  start  on  that  date. 

Like  a  country  boy  on  the  eve  of  a  circus,  I 
was  quite  restless  on  Saturday  night,  October 
1 4th,  but  on  Sunday  morning  I  arose  without  be- 
ing called  more  than  once  or  twice,  pushed  my- 
self into  my  store  clothes,  partook  of  a  brief  re- 
past, and  started  for  the  depot.  On  arriving  at 
the  depot  I  found  quite  a  number  of  people  who 
all  seemed  to  be  "going  some  place"  from  the 
way  they  were  crowding  around.  I  said  nothing 
to  anybody  for  some  time,  but  finally  siding  up  to 
a  fellow  with  a  cap  on,  asked  him  what  time  the 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  185. 

train  would  start.  As  trains  were  leaving  in  more 
than  one  direction  and  on  more  than  one  road  he 
could  not  give  me  much  satisfaction.  I  then 
stood  still  for  a  small  period — of  time,  until  a 
large  man  with  a  hat  on  said,  "This  train  for 
Chicago."  The  idea  at  once  flashed  across  my 
mind  that  he  was  the  fellow  I  had  been  looking 
for,  so  I  gathered  myself  up  and  scrambled  into 
the  car,  with  the  rest  of  the  fellows,  the  fellows' 
wives  and  their  various  and  sundry  children, 
every  fellow  rustling  for  himself,  and  the  conduct- 
or after  us  all.  (Before  getting  through  with  the 
Fair  I  found  this  was  but  a  foretaste  of  what  was 
to  follow.) 

After  the  conductor  had,  as  is  usual  on  a  train 
leaving  a  large  town  where  a  number  of  trains 
leave  about  the  same  time,  pulled  off  about  half  a 
dozen  that  were  "on  the  wrong  train"  and 
hollered  "all  aboard"  once  or  twice,  I  and  the 
train  started  for  Chicago.  We  had  not  traveled 
many  miles  when  we  shot  into  a  long,  deep,  dark, 
dismal  tunnel,  and  when  I  thought  of  the  terrible 
mass  of  material,  metal,  stone,  etc.,  above  us,  I 
began  to  think  about  the  time  I  had  stolen  the 
peaches,  and  various  other  little  mishaps  and  un- 
just acts  of  boyhood,  and  also  a  few  of  more 
modern  date.  The  thought  of  how  matters  were 
situated  on  "the  other  shore,"  pressed  upon  my 
mind  as  it  had  seldom  done  before.  The  smoke 
was  coming  into  the  car  so  thick  and  fast  the  people 


I  86.  THE    STENOGRAPH KR 

commenced  to  cough,  but  as  every  cloud  has  a 
silvery  lining,  so  it  was  with  this,  and  after  a  short 
time  we  again  saw  day. 

Soon  after  I  got  into  the  train  at  the  depot,  a 
young  fellow  that  I  have  a  slight  acquaintance 
with,  walked  into  the  car  and  took  the.  seat  direct- 
ly in  front  of  me.  He  was  a  sort  of  an  apology 
for  a  dude,  but  as  green  as  a  last  summer's  squash, 
and  to  say  that  his  actions  were  amusing,  is  plac- 
ing it  mildly. 

Nothing  of  importance  took  place,  except  eat- 
ing, until  we  reached  the  town  for  which  we  had 
set  sail,  a  trip  of  several  hundred  miles.  It  was 
in  the  evening  when  we  reached  the  town  and 
quite  dark,  neither  of  us  having  been  there  before 
and  Mr.  Squash  very  timid  in  a  strange  town. 
'He,  like  me,  knew  his  number,  nothing  more. 
After  placing  our  feet  on  terra  firma,  we  started 
up  town,  and  while  I  insisted  on  waiting  until  we 
got  up  into  town  before  making  inquiry  about  our 
place  of  stopping,  Mr.  Squash  could  not  wait,  but 
marched  up  to  a  "Dago"  candy  stand  and  en- 
quired for  his  number.  The  position  assumed  by 
Mr.  Squash  as  he  viewed  the  stuttering  Dago  over 
his  glasses,  can  well  be  imagined.  Of  course  no 
information  was  gained  from  him  of  any  value, 
and  after  escorting  Mr.  S.  one  more  block  I 
courteously  bid  him  goodnight. 

Even  though  it  was  getting  rather  late  in  the 
evening,  the  street  on  which  I  was  meandering 
was  very  crowded,  and  there  were  thousands  of 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  187. 

fellows  like  myself — lost.  I  asked  a  man,  with  a 
hat  on,  about  where  my  number  was,  and  he 
pointed  out  the  direction,  and  told  me  by  going 
several  blocks  in  that  direction  I  would  find  a 
street  car  leading  out  toward  the  place  I  desired 
to  go. 

My  neglected  appetite  began  to  haunt  me  about 
this  time  so  I  went  into  a  place  to  get  supper. 
I  dined,  if  such  it  might  be  called,  came  out 
and  walked,  and  walked  and  walked,  and  after 
such  action  for  about  half  an  hour,  much  to 
my  surprise,  came  right  ca-smack  up  to  the  depot 
where  I  had  unloaded  myself.  Discouraging 
as  this  may  appear  it  enabled  me  to  get  my 
bearings  again  and  I  once  more  started  for  the 
car  line;  got  quite  close  to  the  place  where  I  was 
to  take  the  car,  but  on  crossing  the  street  in  front 
of  the  Tribune  building,  there  was  so  much  con- 
fusion, and  the  little  boys  with  papers  under  their 
arms,  shouting  about  the  phenomenal  happenings 
of  the  land,  and,  taking  it  altogether,  I  became 
tangled  up  in  the  crowd,  caught  one  of  my  little 
feet  on  a  slight  elevation  in  the  street,  and  ere  I 
could  regain  my  equilibrium,  the  number  of  the 
house  I  was  looking  for  had  evaporated  from  my 
memory.  I  struggled  around  and  got  out  on  the 
corner  of  the  street,  and  I  and  the  grip  leaned  up 
against  the  building  while  we  were  trying  to  think 
of  that  coveted  number;  finally,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  umbrella,  the  wished  for  number  tot- 
tered across  my  mind,  and  we  took  the  first  car 


l88.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

suitable  and  reached  the  proper  destination.  In 
this  connection,  I  might  say  there  was  a  small 
Vesuvius  (eruption)  on  the  back  of  my  neck,  which 
made  things  a  little  unpleasant  at  times;  otherwise, 
I  was  having  a  fine  (?)  time  in  the  town. 

I  slept  a  little,  and  after  the  sun  arose,  I  started 
for  the  Fair,  taking  the  boat  from  the  city.  Of 
course  I  was  both  pleased  and  surprised  with  the 
size  of  the  Fair,  but,  feeling  a  little  wrought  up 
over  my  experience  of  the  night  before,  together 
with  the  crowd  at  the  gate  and  the  pleasant  feel- 
ing coming  from  the  Vesuvius  on  the  back  of  my 
neck,  I  felt  on  the  "scrapping"  order,  and  consid- 
ering it  to  be  the  most  appropriate,  I  feasted  my 
eyes  upon  the  Krupp  gun  exhibit  the  first  move.  I 
then  took  a  trip  around  on  the  elevated  road,  with 
a  view  of  getting  the  lay  of  the  land.  After  getting 
about  two-thirds  of  the  way  around  this,  and  being 
frightened  by  the  immensity  of  the  business  and 
the  crowd,  I  spied  a  sign,  "United  States  Life 
Saving  Station."  I  at  once  concluded  I  had  bet- 
ter go  over  there  and  register  before  going  any 
further. 

"Shorty"  had  partially  arranged  to  meet  me  at 
the  Fair;  we  were  to  meet  at  the  Administration 
Building  telegraph  office  at  noon,  but,  owing  to 
a  misunderstanding,  I  did  not  know  on  what  date; 
so,  at  noon,  I  went  over  there,  but  no  "Shorty." 

There  is  no  use  telling  you  what  I  saw  of  the 
exhibits,  as  you  have  all  viewed  them.  By  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  I  had  walked  until  I  was 


HIS    LIFE    AND   TRIALS.  189. 

completely  "done  up"  and  it  seemed  that  further 
locomotion  on  my  part  was  completely  out  of  the 
question,  but,  being  filled  with  blissful  anticipa- 
tion, I  would  agitate  Vesuvius  a  little,  in  order  to 
put  new  life  into  me,  and  again  press  forward.  I 
will  not  tell  the  times  I  was  "taken  in"  and  swin- 
dled out  of  my  rapidly  evaporating  currency,  but 
this  much  I  will  say,  I  discovered  before  return- 
ing from  the  Fair,  that  I  had  guide  books  enough 
to  start  a  miniature  library,  none  of  which  were 
of  any  value  to  me  or  of  any  very  great  importance 
to  any  one. 

Tuesday  passed  about  as  did  Monday,  only  on 
that  morning  I  went  to  the  depot  to  meet  "Shorty," 
and  while  there  tangled  up  in  such  a  crowd  as  you 
never  saw  before,  who  should  come  surging  by 
but  Julia  G.  I  was  very  much  excited  at  the  sight 
of  one  I  knew,  and  before  I  was  aware  of  what  I 
was  doing,  gave  vent  to  something  like  "Hello, 
Julia!"  and  then  she  said  something,  and  so  did  I, 
and  then  all  was  over,  the  crowd  passed  on,  and  I 
held  my  post. 

Wednesday  passed  like  unto  the  two  days  pre- 
vious, only  of  course  I  was  viewing  different  ob- 
jects. On  this  day  I  remained  on  the  grounds  to 
see  the  fire-works,  electrical  fountain,  etc.  I  must 
say  I  was  very  much  disappointed  with  the  elec- 
trical fountain,  but  the  other  displays  of  fire-works 
were  very  nice.  Just  before  viewing  the  fire- 
works, I  had  one  of  the  most  interesting  experi- 
ences while  there.  The  trouble  was,  there  were  so 


IQO.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

many  of  us  remaining  for  the  same  purpose,  and 
we  all  wanted  something  to  eat,  and  apparently 
about  the  same  time.  I  kept  looking  for  a  place- 
that  was  not  crowded,  but  soon  became  discour- 
aged and  went  to  a  place  where  there  was  quite  a 
crowd,  got  my  ticket  and  stood  behind  some  peo- 
ple, waiting  until  they  got  through  eating,  when  I 
intended  to  fall  into  their  place.  I  stood  and 
stood  and  stood,  and  the  individual  whom  I  was 
waiting  on,  a  very  corpulent  lady  of  the  selfish 
make-up,  or,  at  least,  I  thought  so,  ate  as  I  think  she 
never  ate  before,  and  still  I  stood.  Other  fellows 
who  came  in  after  I  did,  had  secured  places,  but 
still  I  waited  upon  my  large  lady  friend.  I  noticed 
they  were  dishing  up  edibles  at  a  terrible  rate,  but 
never  thought  of  the  supply  exhausting.  How- 
ever, after  a  certain  length  of  time,  my  esteemed 
lady  friend  completed  her  repast  and  took  up  her 
departure.  I  immediately  filled  as  much  of  the 
vacuum  left  by  her  in  the  crowd  as  it  was  possible 
for  my  slender  form,  (which  was  then  more  slen- 
der than  ordinarily),  and  after  waiting  a  short  time 
longer  a  waiter  came  along,  and  then,  to  my  sor- 
row, I  learned  that  they  were  just  about  out  of 
everything;  there  remained  little,  meagre  pieces 
of  pie,  ten  cents  per  chunk,  and  some  much  wa- 
tered milk,  five  or  ten  cents  per  drink,  and  I  told 
them  I  guessed  not.  I  mosied  out  of  the  door, 
sadder  but  wiser,  although  no  more  corpulent  than 
when  I  went  in.  The  perfume  from  the  departing 
edibles  had  sharpened  my  appetite  until  all 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  191. 

thoughts  of  waiting  until  I  went  back  to  town, 
after  the  display  of  fire-works,  for  something  to 
eat,  was  driven  away  and  I  sought  other  quarters. 
I  next  tried  the  Electricity  Building,  where  they 
were  cooking  by  electricity,  or  making  a  bluff  at 
it,  rather,  as  I  learned  afterwards.  Here,  I  se- 
cured something  in  the  line  of  eating,  by  paying 
desperately  for  it. 

Thursday  was  the  day  of  days  with  me,  for  I 
visited  the  Midway;  Oh!  such  a  mob,  and  such  a 
time  I  had  with  my  feet  getting  them  through  the 
crowd.  Never  in  all  my  life  did  I  see  such  blood- 
thirsty villians  after  ducats  as  those  fellows  out 
there  were.  I  soon  learned  there  was  but  one 
way  to  make  anything  like  good  progress  while 
going  into  the  swindling  shows,  etc.,  and  that  was 
to  take  out  all  the  money  you  had,  hold  it  out  and 
let  them  take  what  they  wanted  and  place  the 
rest  in  your  pocket. 

I  played  with  the  Ferris  Wheel  for  a  short  time, 
saw  the  donkeys  in  the  streets  of  Cairo  and  would 
have  taken  a  ride  had  I  not  been  afraid,  also  saw 
the  menagerie  and  many  other  exhibitions  of 
money  grabbing. 

By  Friday,  I  was  becoming  accustomed  to  walk- 
ing around  considerable  and  was  taking  in  the 
Fair  with  a  vengeance.  Friday  night  I  took  in  the 
city  of  Chicago  by  gas  light,  or  a  portion  of  it. 
About  twelve  o'clock  I  reached  my  place  of  stop- 
ping and  placed  my  weary  head  to  bed,  however 
before  doing  so  I  balanced  my  cash,  and  at  once 


192.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

saw  that  two  or  three  more  visits  to  Midway,  and 
taking  in  a  portion  of  the  town  again,  would 
cause  me  to  feel  the  .effects  of  the  stringency  like 
unto  as  I  had  never  felt  it  before. 

Saturday  morning  I  again  started  for  the  Fair. 
During  the  week  I  had  captured  a  very  severe 
cold,  and  like  everything  else  at  the  Fair,  it  was  BIG. 
Vesuvius  had,  however,  somewhat  subsided,  and  I 
was  getting  along  fairly  well.  That  day  at  noon 
on  going  to  the  telegraph  office,  I  met  the  long 
looked  for  "Shorty."  He  was  just  the  same  little 
"Shorty,"  no  larger,  no  smaller,  and  just  as  com- 
ical as  ever.  Among  the  places  we  visited  that 
afternoon  was  your  state  building,  and  while  in 
there  we  struck  one  of  the  most  valuable  things 
imaginable,  a  fellow  selling  needle  threaders. 
Before  I  could  stop  "Shorty,"  he  had  purchased 
two,  and  much  to  my  delight  he  presented  me 
with  one  of  them.  We  both  rejoiced  greatly,  as 
there  is  no  article  of  household  and  kitchen  furn- 
iture of  more  value  to  us  than  such  a  piece  of 
machinery  as  this.  It  will  cause  life  to  be  ma- 
terially lengthened  for  both  of  us,  and  the  attach- 
ment of  the  useful  little  article  known  as  a  button 
to  our  paraphernalia  will,  in  the  future  be  looked 
upon  as  a  pleasure  instead  of  a  curse.  After  vis- 
iting the  Forty  Beauties,  and  other  scenes  that 
had  been  omitted  on  the  previous  visit  to  the 
place,  and  scrambling  over  the  fence  to  see 
Buffalo  Bill's  wild  west  show,  and  other  things  of 
equal  worth,  I  started  toward  my  stopping  place, 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  193. 

turning  my  back  upon  the  Fair  for  good.  After 
the  usual  trials,  succeeded  in  getting  my  cranium 
placed  upon  its  downy  couch  about  eleven  fifty- 
nine  and  three  quarters  p.  m. 

The  next  morning  I  started  homeward  with  a 
loaded  brain  but  lean  pocket-book.  As  I  was  go- 
ing to  the  depot  the  thought  suggested  itself  that 
I  purchase  a  morning  paper  from  one  of  the 
numerous  little  screeching  individuals  by  the  way- 
side; acting  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment  the 
contemplated  purchase  was  accomplished,  but 
having  my  hands  rather  full  I  did  not  stop  to  un- 
fold or  read  the  paper  until  after  reaching  the  de- 
pot. You  may  imagine  the  state  of  humor  I  was 
then  in  when  discovering  the  "kid"  had  sold  me 
a  paper  over  a  week  old — I  did  not  say  anything, 
but  you  will  please  pardon  me  for  not  penning  my 
thoughts. 

In  a  short  time  the  great  Fair,  together  with  the 
busy  city  was  left  in  the  rear,  and  the  beautiful 
prairies  of  Illinois  began  to  come  to  light  on 
either  hand.  When  about  one  hundred  miles  out 
we  passed  quite  near  the  place  of  my  extreme 
childhood,  and  as  I  viewed  the  beautiful,  broad 
prairies  that  stretched  before  us,  I  thought  well 
might  I  say: 

"Amid  broad  fields  of  wheat  and  corn, 
The  lovely  home  where  I  was  born." 

Passing  along,  I  thought  of  the  stories  I  had 
heard  my  parents  relate  of  the  various  experiences 
of  their  childhood  there,  of  the  then  undeveloped 


194-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

plains,  ox  teams  as  a  means  of  transportation,  and 
other  things  in  comparison,  and  then  to  think  of 
the  high  state  of  civilization  the  country  is  now 
in,  we  traveling  at  the  rate  of  fifty  miles  an  hour 
with  perfect  ease,  I  wondered,  was  it  within  the 
bounds  of  possibilities  that  the  next  generation 
would  witness  such  a  change!  Inventions  have 
gained  ground  more  rapidly  within  the  last  fifty 
years  than  they  did  for  four  hundred  years  before. 
In  1492,  the  Indian  of  America  used  his  pony  and 
canoe  as  a  means  of  transportation;  in  1792,  four 
hundred  years  later,  they  used  small  boats  and  ox 
teams — how  little  progress  in  so  great  a  period  of 
time!  The  railroad  engine  of  1860  is  but  a  shadow 
of  the  present  day  engine.  Electricity  has  made 
more  wonderful  development  in  the  past  ten  years 
than  for  centuries  before;  in  fact,  electricity  has 
reached  that  stage  where  we  need  not  be  surprised 
at  anything  that  may  be  accomplished  by  its  won- 
derful power.  When  farming  is  so  perfected  that 
all  one  will  have  to  do  is  to  sit  in  the  house  and 
"press  the  button"  to  raise  corn  and  potatoes, 
milk  the  cows,  etc.,  I  think  I  shall  again  engage 
in  agricultural  pursuits.  The  prospect  is  not  flat- 
tering for  this  to  be  reached  before  Spring,  any- 
way, and  I  will  doubtless  follow  my  present  occu- 
pation for  a  short  time  yet. 

After  engaging  in  a  few  little  difficulties  which 
are  incident  to. traveling,  I  reached  the  place  of 
my  habitation  in  fairly  good  condition.  After 
having  become  quieted  down  in  my  peaceful 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  195. 

abode,  and  all  the  outside  world  was  wrapped  in 
slumber,  I  could  hear  such  as  the  following  pass 
through  my  head:  "World's  fair  guides,  the  only 
official!"  "Souvenirs,  here!  souvenirs  here!  souv- 
enirs!" "Nice, fresh  peanuts  and  popcorn,  five  cents 
a —  "  "All  the  views  of  the  ground,  but  five  cents!" 
"Shine,  shine,  mister,  shine?"  "Tribune,  Globe 
and  any  other  leading  papers!  paper,  mister,  pa- 
per?" "Nice,  ripe  bananas,  five  cents  a  dozen,  nice, 
ripe!"  "Shine,  mister,  shine?"  "After  the  Fair, 
After  the  Ball,  The  Cat  Came  Back,  and  all  the 
latest  songs,  only  five  cents,  song,  mis — ''  "This 
way  to  the  Fair  grounds!  this  way,  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen!" "Don't  make  a  mistake  by  thinking  you 
can  see  the  Fair  without  a  guide  book,  the  only — 
"Chewing  gum,  five  cents!"  "Tribune,  all  about 
the  great  railroad  disaster!"  "Shine,  mister,  shine, 
only — . "  It  was  a  repetition  of  what  I  heard  at 
the  Fair. 

Over  a  year  having  now  passed  since  the  dust 
of  Jolleyville  was  wiped  from  my  feet,  the  old 
landmarks  have  been  crowded  entirely  to  the 
background,  and  new  ones  occupy  the  more  con- 
spicuous places  in  my  memory  and  thought.  New 
acquaintances  have  been  formed,  and  while  the 
old  ones  are  not  entirely  forgotten,  it  is  agains-t 
the  laws  of  the  wisely  decreed  nature  that  they 
should  be  so  fresh  in  mind  as  they  were  only  a 
year  ago.  What  coming  years  may  bring,  time 
alone  will  reveal.  Perhaps  the  thought  of  friends 
who  once  held  sacred  places  in  my  storehouse  of 


196.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

memory  will  have  been  pushed  entirely  out,  and 
but  the  appearance  of  their  names  or  faces  will 
recall  old  associations,' 

Among  my  new  found  friends,  many  of  them 
are  very  congenial,  some  more  than  others,  of 
course,  some  of  whom  will  have  a  tendency  to 
cause  me  to  have  a  more  pious  feeling  toward  the 
old  gentleman  Missionary.  Perhaps  the  following 
paper,  which  I  read  before  a  society  of  friends  in 
my  new  place  of  abode,  when  called  upon  to  write 
upon  Whittier's  "Among  the  Hills,"  will  help 
them  to  better  understand  my  position  in  regard 
to  existing  circumstances,  and  the  tinge  that  even 
bitter  disappointment  may  leave  on  one's  life: 

Scene,  rural  districts,  country  life  in  a  hilly 
country.  The  writer  portrays  the  place  as  imme- 
diately after  a  season  of  rain,  everything  fresh, 
green  and  inviting.  He  reaches  the  place  in  the 
evening  as  the  shadows  fall  slowly,  unceremonious- 
ly meets  an  idle  milkmaid,  and  in  the  conversation 
which  follows,  the  milkmaid  relates:  A  fair  maiden 
who  had  left  the  city  for  health,  gains  strength 
very  rapidly,  her  health  is  regained,  the  ideal 
farmer  meets  her;  apparently  a  case  of  love  at  first 
sight;  after  extremely  brief  preliminaries  they  are 
married;  their  cup  of  joy  runneth  over,  as  it  were; 
he  is  elected  to  office,  and  peace  and  prosperity  is 
their  lot. 

"Paint  me  as  I  am"  is  my  motto,  and  never  do 
I  feel  more  impressed  with  it  than  when  reading 
a  poem  like  this.  There  is  a  peculiarity  attached 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  197. 

to  every  man's  writings  that  enables  those  who 
are  well  read  to  distinguish  the  author  by  simply 
hearing  the  quotations.  This  proves  to  us  that 
no  one  mind  is  capable  of  covering  the  entire 
scope  of  anything.  The  writings  of  some  of  our 
most  noted  authors,  though  their  selections  may 
be  on  altogether  different  subjects,  the  tenor  of 
their  articles  have  a  striking  familarity.  We  find 
one  who  gathers  his  thoughts  from  the  homes,  life 
and  surroundings  of  the  kings  and  queens;  another 
writer,  of  perhaps  the  same  popularity,  seeks  the 
quiet  farm  in  the  backwoods,  for  the  ground  work 
in  his  poem,  while  others  will  write  such  as  will 
appeal  to  the  sympathy  of  the  reader,  gathering 
his  thoughts  from  the  poor  of  the  city.  It  is  a 
strange  but  stubborn  fact  that  almost  invariably, 
whether  the  story  be  taken  from  the  highest  or 
lowest  walks  of  humanity,  whether  it  be  taken 
from  the  royal  family  of  the  old  world,  or  the 
humble  fisherman  of  our  land,  there  is  intermingled 
with  it  an  exchange  of  affections,  as  it  were,  that 
either  winds  up  in  matrimony  or  a  disappointed 
life.  Even  W.  T.  Stead,  who  astonished  the  lit- 
erary world  in  his  "From  the  Old  World  to  the 
New,"  in  Review  of  Reviews,  in  Christmas  ('92 ) 
number,  had  interwoven  with  it  a  love  story  that 
would  have  touched  the  tender  portions  of  the 
heart  of  a  criminal. 

Whittier  has  made  no  exception  to  the  rule  in 
his  "Among  the  Hills,"  hence  it  makes  it  rather  a 


198.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

difficult  subject  for  the  wielder  of  a  blunt  pen  to 
handle.  In  his  description  of  the  surroundings, 
he  says: 

"It  was  as  if  the  summer's  late 

Atoning  for  its  sadness. 
Had  borrowed  every  season's  charm 

To  end  its  days  in  gladness. 

I  call  to  mind  those  banded  vales 

Of  shadow  and  of  shining, 
Through  which,  my  hostess  at  my  side, 

1  drove  in  days  declining. 

We  pause  at  last  where  home  bound  rows 
Brought  down  the  pasture's  treasure.  *  * 

We  heard  the  night  hawks  suHen  plunge, 

The  crow  his  tree  male  calling, 
The  shadows,  lengthening  down  the  slopes, 

About  our  feet  were  falling. 

And  through  them  smote  the  level  sun 

In  broken  lines  of  splendor. 
Touched  the  gray  rocks  and  made  the  green 

Of  the  shorn  grass,  more  tender. 

This  certainly  is  the  most  pleasant  time  of  the 
day  in  the  country;  the  day's  work  is  over,  the 
shades  falling,  and  the  tired  farmer,  whether  his 
deeds  be  evil  or  not,  loveth  the  darkness,  as  that 
is  his  time  of  rest.  If  one  has  any  feeliii.- 
love,  it  is  more  liable  to  sprout  out  this  time  of 
the  day  than  any  other,  whether  that  love  be  for 
man  or  maiden,  horse  or  cow,  or  the  circum- 
stances with  which  he  is  surrounded.  To  have  all 
things  work  together  in  harmony  and  come  out 
right,  we  must  have  the  ideal  milkmaiden.  so  here 
she  comes: 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  199. 

"And  weaving  garlands  for  her  dog, 

'Twixt  chidings  and  caresses, 
A  human  flower  of  childhood  shook 

The  sunshine  from  her  tresses. 

The  suu-browned  farmer  in  his  frock, 

Shook  hands  and  called  to  Mary ; 
Bare-armed,  as  Juno  might,  she  came, 

White  aproned  from  the  dairy." 

When  we  get  to  this  part  of  the  story,  we  grasp 
the  conclusion  at  once  that  the  fairy  maiden  of 
the  butter  laboratory  is  to  be  the  heroine  of  the 
drama,  but  we  are  disappointed;  she  but  .relates 
the  story  of  other  days.  She  tells  her  tale,  the 
writer  says: 

"The  early  crickets  sang;  the  stream 

Splashed  through  my  friend's  narration ; 
Her  rustic  patois  of  the  hills, 

Lost  in  my  free  translation. 
More  wise,  she  said,  than  those  who  swarm 

Our  hills  in  middle  summer, 
She  came  when  June's  first  roses  blow, 

To  greet  the  early  comer ; 
From  school  and  ball  and  rout  she  came, 

The  city's  fair,  pale  daughter, 
To  drink  the  w'ne  of  mountain  air, 

Beside  the  Bearcamp  water. 
Her  steps  grew  firmer  on  the  hills 

That  watch  our  homesteads  over; 
On  cheek  and  lip,  from  summer  fields, 

She  caught  the  bloom  of  clover. 
For  health  comes  sparkling  in  the  streams 

From  cool  Chocura  stealing; 
1  here's  iron  in  our  Northern  winds, 

Our  pines  are  trees  of  healing.  *  * 
Beside  her.  from  the  summer  heat, 

To  share  her  gratefnl  screening, 
With  forehead  bared,  the  farmer  stood, 

Upon  his  pitchfork  leaning." 


200.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Here,  the  story  drifts  into  that  sort  of  intimate 
conversation  that  proves  more  affecting  to  be  read 
to  a  more  limited  audience,  and  for  that  reason  I 
make  but  a  brief  extract  of  what  follows: 

"She  looked  up,  glowing  with  the  health 

The  country  air  had  brought  her, 
And  laughing  said,  you  lack  a  wife, 

Your  mother  lacks  a  daughter. 

He  bent  his  black  brows  to  a  frown, 

He  set  his  white  teeth  tightly, 
'Tis  well,  he  said,  for  one  like  you, 
•    To  choose  for  me  so  lightly. 

No  mood  is  mine  to  seek  a  wife, 

Nor  daughter  for  my  mother ; 
Who  loves  you  loses  in  that  love, 

All  power  to  love  another." 

I  realize  the  fact  that  often,  under  the  impulse 
of  the  moment,  things  are  sometimes  said  that 
we  do  not  exactly  mean,  and  I  think  the  individ- 
ual who  gives  vent  to  such  an  expression  as, 

"Who  loves  you  loses  in  that  love, 
Ail  power  to  love  another." 

must  be  under  one  of  those  impulses.  We  believe 
that  love,  like  power,  is  a  good  thing  if  properly 
applied,  but  when  it  has  the  influence  over  one 
that  it  seems  to  have  had  over  our  hardy  son  of  toil 
in  this  case,  it  can  hardly  be  looked  upon  in  any 
other  than  a  spirit  of  disgust.  If  a  person  is  really 
in  this  condition,  he  has  my  heartfelt  sympathy. 
To  abbreviate  the  narrative,  we  quote: 

"And  so  the  farmer  found  a  wife, 

His  mother  found  a  daughter, 
There  is  no  happier  home  than  hers, 

On  .pleasant  Bearcamp  water. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  2OI 

Flowers  spring  to  blossom  where  she  walks 

The  careful  ways  of  duty. 
Our  hard  still  lines  of  life  with  her 

Are  flowing  curves  of  beauty. 

Our  homes  are  cheerier  for  her  sake, 

Our  dooryards  brighter  blooming, 
And  all  about  the  social  air, 

Is  sweeter  for  her  coming." 

This  verse  is  one  well  worthy  of  example,  that 
we  might  each  live  so  those  around  us  would  feel 
our  influence,  and  that  we  could  help  make  life 
pleasant  for  others.  We  believe  it  is  in  the  power 
of  every  individual  to  lead  such  a  life  as  to  make  it 
pleasant  or  unpleasant  for  those  around  him.  This 
being  the  case,  it  should  be  our  ambition  to  live  in 
that  way  that  the  world  may  be  better  for  our  having 
lived;  that  when  we  shall  have  been  called  upon 
to  quit  this  earthly  scene,  the  world  will  say,  it  is 
with  sorrow  we  part  with  thee.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  be  egotistical  to  lead  such  a  life  as  this, 
but  let  us  treat  every  one  as  our  equal,  and  that 
we  may  consider  that  day  well  spent  when  we 
have  rolled  a  stone  from  our  brother's  pathway 
and  placed  a  flower  in  its  stead. 

There  is  another  verse,  which  we  quote  without 
comment,  which  reads: 

"Her  presence  lends  its  warmth  and  health, 

To  all  who  come  before  it ; 
If  woman  lost  us  Eden,  such 

As  she  alone  restore  it." 

As  time  passed  on,  it  appears,  or  at  least  so  the 
story  goes,  our  farmer  friend  became  ambitious 
and  began  to  play  the  role  of  a  politician;  runs 


202.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

for  office  and  is  successful,  and  as  lie  sails  down 
life's  pathway  on  flowery  beds  of  ease,  the  ]tmnd 
possessor  of  both  wife  ami  office,  we  quote  as  fol- 
lows: 

"He  has  his  own,  free,  boor. less  lore, 

The  lessons  nature  taught  him, 
The  wisdom  which  the  wno<]s  mirl  liilU, 

And  toiling  men  have  brought  him." 

Referring  to  the  motto  with  which  we  started, 
viz:  "Paint  me  as  I  am,'' I  must  s;i\  this  poem 
pictures  altogether  in  a  one-sided  manner.  AYrm 
all  lives  on  a  wooded  farm  as  this  man's,  we  would 
all  be  out  tilling  the  soil  and  watching  for  fair 
haired  maidens  from  the  city.  True,  we  seldom 
find  a  writer  who  is  perfectly  honest  in  his  desrrip- 
tions;  he  always  takes  the  best.  This,  as  por- 
trayed, is  ideal  farm  life,  he  but  shows  up  the  sun- 
shine; let  us  look  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence, 
in  the  shade. 

In  this  story,  everything  is  working  in  perfect 
harmony,  the  earth  seems  ty  have  put  on  her  best 
robes,  immediately  after  a  heavy  rain  in  the  sum- 
mer, harvest  time,  abundant  harvest,  the  load  of 
hay  coming  down  the  road,  slowly,  of  course,  the 
driver  asleep,  the  ideal  milkmaiden  with  the  but- 
ter such  as  was  never  seen  before  or  since,  those 
exceptionally  good  cows  putting'  in  their  appear- 
ance, just  entering  the  gate,  and  then  winds  up: 

"How  rich 

And  restful,  even  poverty  and  toil 
Become  when  beauty,  harmony  and  love 
Sit  at  their  humble  hearth  as  angels  sat." 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  203. 

But  now  for  the  other  side  of  farm  life  among 
the  hills,  etc. :  Two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  sun 
so  hot  it  almost  melts  one  to  the  ground,  no  water 
to  drink  except  some  carried  to  the  field  in  a  jug, 
which  has  become  so  hot,  sitting  under  the  gymp- 
sum  weed,  that  it  almost  hurts  your  throat.  Pic- 
ture, if  you  please,  farm  life  as  a  reality  under 
these  conditions,  a  fellow  plowing  in  the  stumps, 
every  few  feet  you  strike  a  stump  which  jerks  you 
and  your  horses  crosswise,  and  at  the  same  time 
have  the  cattle  breaking  through  the  fence  at  an- 
other portion  of  the  field,  destroying  the  corn, 
and  in  another  place  the  hogs  doing  likewise,  root- 
ing up  the  potatoes.  Ah, 

"How  dear  to  my  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my  childhood, 
When  fond  recollections  present  them  to  view." 

After  encountering  such  as  this  all  day,_  retire  to 
the  house  as  the  twilight  gathers,  and,  after  doing 
the  necessary  daily  duties  around  the  barn,  there 
is  anywhere  from  ten  to  twenty  cows  to  milk.  This 
is  something  that  must  be  done  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  nights  out  of  the  year,  and  this  duty, 
after  one  has  passed  through  what  we  have  just 
outlined  during  the  day,  sometimes  prove  to  be 
very  arduous,  especially  if  the  cowlets  are  of  the 
kind  that  kick.  Those  of  us  who  are  strangers  to 
farm  life  will  perhaps  not  appreciate  this,  but  it  is 
composed  of  those  cold,  stubborn  facts  that  are 
made  of  as  honest  material  as  those  outlined  by 


204-  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

Whittier.  Of  course  it  is  the  other  extreme,  and 
in  this,  as  in  all  other  cases,  there  is  the  golden 
mean. 

There  are  many  pleasures  the  farmer  enjoys  we 
never  realize  here  in  the  ^ity,  and  there  is  no 
doubt  but  what  thousands  and  thousands  of  our 
city  poor  would  be  ninety-nine  per  cent  better  off 
on  the  farm;  in  fact,  I  conscientiously  believe  the 
Lord  intended  our  western  plains  should  be  more 
thickly  inhabited  than  they  are,  and  it  seems  al- 
most cruel  to  keep  children  penned  up  in  a  little 
room  in  the  city,  when  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
acres  of  land  lie  in  these  United  States  yet  unde- 
veloped, where  they  might  live  as  free  as  the  birds 
of  the  air.  But  this,  perhaps,  plays  no  important 
part  in  our  story. 

It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  the  American  is 
never  satisfied  until  wrapped  in  the  arms  of  death, 
and  of  course  he  never  can  be  contented.  If  he 
lives  in  the  country,  he  imagines  the  city  is  just 
the  place  for  him;  if  he  moves  to  the  city,  he 
sometimes  has  such  a  desire  to  get  back  to  the 
old  farm,  he  wishes  he  might  have  died  in  his 
youth,  and  so  it  goes.  We  are  a  restless,  unsatis- 
fied class  of  mortals  at  best,  and  we  have  long 
since  reached  the  conclusion  that  anything  like 
happiness  can  only  be  attained  in  this  life  by  being 
contented  with  our  lot,  and  in  striving  to  fit  and 
prepare  ourselves  for  an  inheritance  in  that  land 
where  contention  and  competition  are  strangers, 
and  peace  and  happiness  hold  sway. 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  205. 

Stenographers,  as  a  class,  have  every  reason  to 
be  encouraged;  stick  together  and  work  with  a 
will.  The  world  is  fast  reaching  the  point  where 
it  cannot  well  afford  to  do  without  us.  First  of 
all,  one  in  this  business  should  strive  earnestly  to 
become  proficient  in  his  profession;  stick  close  to 
business  and  do  your  best. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  excitement  at  times, 
caused  by  a  new  patent  on  the  phonograph,  and 
some  enthusiastic  agent  gets  hold  of  it,  but  we  have 
the  pleasure  every  time  of  seeing  their  boom  fizzle 
out,  and  thus  it  always  will  be.  The  trouble  is, 
so  many  people  have  the  idea  inculcated  into  their 
cranium,  that  a  stenographer  is  only  a  sort  of  a 
machine,  and  so  he  may  be  if  he  never  tries  to 
make  anything  else  out  of  himself,  but  the  live 
stenographer  is  ever  up  and  doing  something 
that  will  advance  his  employer's  interests.  How 
would  it  be  with  the  phonograph?  The  minute 
the  machinery  is  stopped,  the.  key  turned  and 
the  dictator  ceases  to  speak  into  the  dormant 
tube,  of  what  value  is  it?  Perhaps  he  wishes  an 
errand  run,  a  letter  copied,  mailed,  some  one  to 
fix  up  his  private  accounts,  he  will  find  his  Mr. 
Phonograph  sitting  as  quietly  as  he  left  it,  while 
he  runs  his  own  errands  and  looks  after  his  own 
accounts.  It  might  be  argued  his  typewriter  ope- 
rator could  do  all  this,  and  so  he  might,  but  if  you 
are  going  to  get  some  one  that  is  competent  to  do 
anything,  it  would  be  just  as  well  to  hire  a  steno- 
grapher. 


206.  TIIK     N  |  |  xoiik.U'HK.R 

We  have  heard  of  ])roinincnt  business  men  say- 
ing they  could  set  the  phonograph  on  their  de^k, 
talk  into  it  at  leisure  and  than  send  it  in  to  be 
written  off  at  the  convenience  of  the  type-writer 
operator.  On  routine  work,  where  the  one  that 
did  the  typewriting  was  very  familiar  with  the 
work  and  knew  what  was  coining,  it  might  be  sat 
isfactory,  but  on  difficult  matters  it  would  make 
very  poor  sense,  from  the  very  fact  that  every 
letter  would  have  to  be  written  twice  in  order  to 
enable  any  one  not  hearing  it  dictated,  to  proper- 
ly punctuate  it. 

Even  should  they  be  introduced  into  geneial 
business,  it  would  not  hurt  the  lady  stenographers 
much;  it  might  give  the  boys  a  little  rub,  but  we 
hardly  think  it  probable  that  such  a  thing  will  be 
accomplished  in  this  age.  .  Little  experience  with 
one  of  them  will  prove  to  most  of  us  that  they 
will  have  to  be  improved  upon  very  materially  be- 
fore they  will  ever  be  much  of  a  success  in  a  busi- 
ness way.  There  will  not  be  near  tne  satisfaction 
to  a  business  man  to  have  to  carry  his  machine 
over  to  his  desk  to  talk  to  it  as  there  would  be  in 
giving  the  military  command  of  "Get  your  book," 
and  see  the  poor  steno  scramble  for  life  to  get  the 
words  as  they  drop  from  his  lips.  There  will  not 
be  near  the  satisfaction  about  discovering  that  he 
has  said  something  wrong  as  there  would  be  in 
cursing  the  stenographer,  for  if  it  had  been  taken 
in  shorthand  he  could  declare  the  stenographer 
was  careless.  Common  reason  will  at  once  make 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  207. 

it  apparent  to  business  men,  that  it  would  be  very 
inconvenient  to  use  such  things,  and  I  think  there 
is  but  little  danger  of  their  doing  us  any  great 
harm.  There  may  be  a  few  cranks  use  them,  but 
they  will  be  a  class  of  people  that  a  steno  would 
have  a  hard  life  with  anyway,  and  then  some  of 
us  will  have  the  satisfaction  of  trying  to  write 
them  off  for  them;  they  can't  beat  us  on  this  point. 
When  any  of  you  who  hammer  glass  for  your 
bread  become  discouraged,  think  of  others  who 
are  performing  like  service,  and  renew  your  energy, 
take  courage  and  press  forward  with  a  will.  Per- 
haps, while  you,  in  your  leisure  office  hours,  are 
perusing  the  pages  of  this  book,  I  will  be  strug- 
gling with  all  my  might,  endeavoring  to  partially 
read  the  mind  of  a  rapid  dictator  who  does  not 
talk  loud  enough  to  be  heard,  and  then  get  a 
swearing  at,  because  "That's  not  the  way  I  dic- 
tated it."  Such  mournful  sounds  often  creep 
around  my  sanctum,  and  now  comes  that  other 
dreadful  tone,  "Take  a  letter,"  so  I  must  leave 
you. 

THE  END. 


APPENDIX. 

VALUABLE      INSTRUCTIONS    AND     SUGGESTIONS     FOR 

STENOGRAPHERS,   WRITTEN  EXPRESSLY  FOR 

THIS   WORK,    BY    MR.    RUSSELL. 

The  successful  man  has  many  rivals,  the  un- 
successful none.  The  statement  has  been  oft  re- 
peated that  there  are  already  too  many  stenograph- 
ers, and  to  substantiate  this,  individuals  have  been 
pointed  out  who,  having  graduated  from  some 
school,  have  never  been  able  to  make  a  practical 
use  of  their  knowledge. 

There  is  but  one  road  to  success  in  any  field  of 
labor,  and  that  lies  through  dense  forests  of  im- 
pediments which  must  be  removed  by  our  own 
hands,  until  this  pathway  shall  lead  us  out  into 
the  broad  expanse  where  the  constant  tread  of 
the  successful  ones  has  worn  a  thoroughfare. 

It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  the  majority  of 
those  who  graduate  from  short-hand  schools 
come  from  the  rural  districts,  with  the  intention 
of  mastering  the  art,  securing' a  situation  and  liv- 
ing in  comparative  ease  in  the  city.  After 
securing  a  diploma  from  school,' the  happy  gradu- 
ate wends  his  way  to  the  business  centers,  confi- 
dent that  success  has  already  perched  upon  his 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  209. 

banner  and  that  there  is  a  vast  vacancy  in  some 
business  circle  awaiting  his  arrival.  But  too 
often,  although  there  may  be  a  vacancy,  there  is 
a  still  larger  one  in  the  mind  of  the  student,  and 
the  philosophy  of  nature  teaches  us  that  a  vacancy 
can  not  be  filled  by  a  fruitless  effort  to  draw  from 
a  vacuum.  By  this  statement  we  do  not  wish  to 
reflect  upon  the  intelligence  of  the  student,  or 
to  place  below  par  the  college  diploma,  but  a  few 
suggestions  gained  from  practical  experience  may, 
we  trust,  prove  of  benefit  to  the  beginner. 

i  st.  The  best  equipped  stenographer  is  not 
one  who  can  exhibit  a  diploma  and  numerous  let- 
ters of  recommendation,  but,  if  necessary,  going 
without  either  of  these,  relies  upon  his  work  as 
evidence  of  his  PRESENT  worth. 

and.  "Mind  your  own  business"  is  a  proverb 
that  should  never  be  forgotten.  The  stenographer, 
unlike  many  other  employees,  is  admitted  at  once 
to  the  secrets  of  the  office;  he  becomes  almost  as 
conversant  with  the  important  matters  of  the  firm 
as  his  employer  himself,  and  to  make  these 
known  outside  of  the  circle  in  which  they  should 
be  familiar,  is  to  be  guilty  of  betraying  the  inter- 
ests which  you  are  employed  to  serve. 

3d.  Too  much  stress  cannot  be  laid  upon  gain- 
ing the  unreserved  confidence  of  your  superiors. 
This  can  be  accomplished  only  by  giving  absolute 
satisfaction,  and  this,  in  turn,  is  secured  by  study- 
ing their  wishes  and  seeking  to  gratify  them. 
Strict  business  methods  must  be  observed,  and 


210.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

when  called  upon  to  work  over-time,  as  the  steno- 
grapher frequently  is,  do  so  with  a  willingness  that 
will  forcibly  demonstrate  that  you  are  laboring  for 
the  interests  of  your  employer,  and  not  merely  to 
get  your  salary. 

4th.  Do  not  swerve  from  the  path  of  duty  and 
indulge  in  extravagancies  which  the  successful 
stenographers  around  you  may  enjoy,  or,  like  the 
small  boy  who  seeks  to  imitate  his  father  by 
smoking  a  cigar,  you  may  have  cause  to  regret  it. 
What  we  mean  by  this,  is,  don't  think  that  you 
fill  your  position  with  such  ability  and  dignity 
that  the  management  will  look  over  your  personal 
faults,  for  there  is  no  position,  however  well  filled, 
but  what  may  be  occupied  by  others  who  are 
equally  as  able.  In  our  experience  we  have  known 
several  proficient  stenographers  who,  through  care- 
lessness, a  disregard  for  office  hours  and  other  re- 
quirements, have  lost  the  good  will  that  their 
former  faithful  labors  have  merited. 

In  most  places  the  stenographer  is  called  upon 
to  do  a  great  deal  of  work  other  than  letter  writing, 
and  to  be  in  a  general  way  acquainted  with  the 
details  of  the  office  will  give  to  you  a  prestige  not 
to  be  gained  in  any  other  way.  Promotion,  gen- 
erally, only  comes  through  merit,  and  the  steno- 
grapher who  does  only  that  which  he  is  compelled 
to  do  around  the  office,  manifests  that  his  ambi- 
tion rises  no  higher  than  the  plane  upon  which  he 
stands  at  present,  and  he  may  rest  assured  that 
the  fond  dreams  of  what  to-morrow  may  bring 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  211. 

\ 

will  never  be  realized,  for  the  clouds  of  indo- 
lence and  indifference  have  bedecked  the  horri- 
zon,  precluding  the  rays  which  the  sun  of  hope 
has  shed  forth  ere  they  have  been  able  to  accom- 
plish their  mission. 

It  is  not  the  fond  dreamer,  but  the  incessant 
toiler  that  subdues  difficulties.  When  starting  out 
upon  life's  labors,  we  have  had  pointed  out  to  us, 
men  and  women  of  renown,  who  at  one  time  oc 
cupied  a  very  secluded  position  among  the  world's 
busy  throng,  and  as  we  have  heard  the  stor\  of 
their  success  related  we  have  felt  like  following  in 
their  way  as  nearly  as  possible.  But,  alasl  suc- 
cess is  not  to  be  attained  in  this  manner.  The  op 
portunities  which  came  to  them  have  never  been 
presented  to  us,  and  we  soon  awaken  to  a  reali- 
zation of  the  fact  that  we  are  rowing  in  a  differ- 
ent current  entirely,  and  cannot  successfully  stem 
the  tide  by  our  present  movements.  Observation 
is  one  of  the  greatest  factors  entering  into  the 
education  of  the  practical  man  or  woman.  To 
illustrate  this  point,  we  will  relate  an  incident 
which  happened  in  our  own  experience,  so  far 
back  in  our  career  that  we  have  but  a  faint  recol- 
lection of  its  details. 

On  a  bright  spring  morning,  with  several  com- 
panions, we  started  out  early  to  spend  the  day 
fishing.  Arriving  at  the  stream,  one  of  the  boys 
immediately  proceeded  to  prepare  his  line,  and 
had  scarcely  cast  it  into  the  water,  when  he  ex- 
pressed a  shout  of  delight,  as  he  pulled  out  a 


212.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

large  fish,  weighing  about  four  pounds.  The  rest 
of  the  boys  ran  to  the  same  spot  and  all  threw 
their  line  in  the  same  place,  evidently  presuming 
that  this  was  a  favored  spot  where  all  you  had  to 
do  was  to  pull  out  fish;  but,  to  their  dismay,  they 
found  the  prize  had  already  been  taken,  and  that 
that  special  past  of  the  stream  was  no  more 
favored  than  any  other.  And  still  we  were  con- 
fident there  were  just  "as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as 
have  ever  been  caught."  The  idea  we  wish  to 
convey  in  this,  is  to  rely  upon  your  own  judg- 
ment, study  your  own  surroundings,  meet  each 
emergency  successfully,  and  when  other  laborers 
have  good  news  to  report,  you  will  not  be  much 
less  favored.  No  definite  rule  can  be  laid  down, 
the  pursuit  of  which  will  bring  to  us  success;  we 
must  each  master  our  own  peculiar  situation. 

The  great  difficulty  with  most  individuals  who 
have  failed  in  the  past  is,  that  they  have  not  had 
the  power  of  endurance  to  bravely  face  adversity 
and  convert  it  into  the  channel  of  success.  Na- 
poleon once  ordered  his  drummer  boy  to  beat  a 
retreat  when  he  thought  he  had  lost  the  day.  The 
boy  responded:  "General,  I  don't  know  how  to 
beat  a  retreat,  but  I  can  beat  a  charge  that  will 
strike  terror  to  the  hearts  of  the  enemy."  He 
did,  and  the  very  fact  that  he  entered  the  army 
never  having  learned  how  to  beat  a  retreat  was 
so  inspiring  to  the  great  Napoleon,  that  the  boy's 
ambition  was  recognized  and  promotion  was  the 
natural  result.  Too  many  enter  upon  their  labors 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  213. 

in  a  half-hearted  way,  and  they  learn  to  "beat  a 
retreat"  before  they  have  made  a  spirited  charge. 
Many  an  individual  has  found  the  profession  of 
stenography  a  stepping-stone  to  a  higher  plane, 
but,  unlike  some  classes  of  work,  the  stenographer 
must  be  thorough  and  accurate,  for  he  cannot 
write  on  the  machine  that  which -he  has  not  been 
able  to  take  in  dictation.  A  large  majority  are 
satisfied  with  a  speed  of  one  hundred  words  per 
minute,  simply  because  there  are  some  positions 
they  can  fill  at  that  speed,  while  the  aim  of  all 
should  be  to  write  two  hundred  words  per  minute, 
for  experience  has  proven  that  this  can  be  done, 
and  anyone  who  is  satisfied  with  less,  is  lowering 
the  standard. 

The  profession  is  now  becoming  much  more 
crowded  than  it  has  been;  competition  has  in- 
creased, and  only  the  thoroughly  competent  sten- 
ographer is  in  demand  at  all.  There  are  many 
things  which  contribute  to  success  aside  from 
those  already  mentioned,  as  it  is  evident  that  no 
stenographer  can  report  a  studied  speech,  deliv- 
ered by  an  orator,  unless  he  himself  has  become 
well  read  and  in  a  general  way  acquainted  himself 
with  the  subject  under  consideration.  Life  is 
short,  however,  and  the  field  of  knowledge  so  ex- 
tensive that  the  reaper  does  not  have  opportunity 
to  cover  the  vast  territory  even  once,  and  the  pro- 
fession of  stenography,  like  that  of  others,  must 
soon  be  arranged  to  meet  in  a  special  way  the  re- 
quirements of  each  peculiar  branch  of  business 


214-  THE    STENOGRAPH!  U 

in  which  it  is  used.  This  will  not  only  be  of 
great  advantage  to  the  profession,  but  the  busi- 
ness man  as  well/ "for  the  stenographer  will  then 
have  no  excuse  for  being  ignorant  of  terms  used 
in  the  special  industry  with  which  he  has  become 
connected.  We  do  not  expect  at  any  very  early 
date  to  see  this  system  inaugurated,  but  the  stu- 
dent who  meets  with  any  extraordinary  success, 
has  invariably  done  so  by  following  a  certain  pro- 
fession and  becoming  so  thoroughly  proficient  in 
it  that  it  has  been  difficult  to  replace  his  services. 
Many  firms  dislike  to  employ  a  new  stenographer, 
because  they  are  required  to  school  them  in  their 
peculiar  business  for  some  six  months  before  they 
are  of  much  real  worth.  This  should  not  be.  The 
duties  of  the  stenographer  are  so  well  denned  in 
general,  that  there  can  be  no  excuse  on  his  part 
for  inefficiency. 

The  mistake  is  often  indulged  in,  that  because 
we  have  sufficient  speed  to  meet  present  require- 
ments we  have  therefore  mastered  the  art,  and 
many  a  student,  after  leaving  business  college, 
never  thinks  of  continuing  his  studies  for  a  year 
or  two,  until  he  has  become  so  thorough  that,  if 
necessary,  he  could  get  up  a  text-book  of  his  own. 
Garfield  taught  school  at  one  time  by  keeping  al- 
ways just  one  lesson  in  advance  of  his  class,  and 
had  he  never  informed  us  of  this  uncommon  oc- 
currence in  his  history,  perhaps  even  those  whom 
he  taught  would  never  have  known  it.  Some  of 
the  best  stenographers  to-day  are  those  who  have 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  215. 

by  persistent  study  culled  from  some  text  book 
the  necessary  information  and  made  a  practical 
application  of  it.  Their  success  has  been  due  to 
the  fact  that  when  a  situation  was  obtained,  all 
the  confidence  they  had  was  reposed  in  them- 
selves, and  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  as  ask- 
ing the  teacher  to  solve  the  difficulties  that  arose. 
While  we  speak  thus  encouragingly  to  the  beginner, 
and  could,  were  we  so  disposed,  point  to  numer- 
ous instances  where  success  has  been  attained 
under  the  most  adverse  circumstances,  this  work 
would  not  be  complete  did  it  not  contemplate,  at 
least  partially,  the  extensive  field  opening  to  the 
proficient,  and  the  requisites  necessary  to  meet 
future  emergencies. 

The  anticipations  of  that  which  invention  may 
bring  about  have  entirely  crushed  the  aspirations 
that  have  arisen  within  the  minds  of  some,  and 
they  have  seemingly  left  the  field  to  be  occupied 
by  the  phonograph  and  such  other  inventions  as 
the  ingenuity  of  the  philosopher  may  bring  forth. 
If  the  profession  of  stenography  shall  continue 
throughout  the  coming  generations  it  will  be  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  stenographer  has  proven  him- 
self to  be  more  than  a  machine.  The  phonograph 
may  record  accurately  every  sound  of  the  human 
voice  and  repeat  it  without  having  lost  its  individ- 
uality, but  it  is  a  machine  and  nothing  more 
and  can  never  be  on  a  parity  with  the  professional 
stenographer.  We  do  not  wish  to  be  understood 
as  saying  that  some  of  these  inventions  may  not 


2l6.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

in  the  near  future  take  the  place  of  some  steno- 
grapers,  but  wish  to  emphasize  the  fact  that  the 
mind  of  man  is  more  than  a  machine  and  must 
always  be  so  recognized.  We  are  speaking  now 
to  the  professional  stenographers,  those  compe- 
tent to  judge  whether  or  not  the  position  taken  is 
a  tenable  one.  We  are  all  familiar  with  the 
many  errors  made  in  dictation  by  the  ordinary 
individual,  in  grammatical  construction  often  and 
quite  frequent  in  choice  of  langauge.  The  phon- 
ograph MUST  record  every  error  and  repeat  it  in 
translation,  and  in  this  particular  point  is  the 
superiority  of  the  stenographer  shown.  To 
illustrate  the  point  in  view,  we  will  give  one  in- 
stance where  the  stenographer  acted  as  a  machine 
ONLY,  without  the  exercise  of  that  judgment  which 
must  enter  into  all  intelligent  correspondence. 

When  we  say  that  the  stenogapher  in  question 
was  a  lady,  we  presume  none  will  infer  from  that 
that  we  choose  to  use  them  as  a  mark  of  inferiori- 
ty, for  our  purpose  is  far  from  this,  our  object 
being  only  to  adhere  strictly  to  the  truth.  This 
young  lady,  from  some  cause  or  other,  was  suffer- 
ing from  a  spirit  of  drowsiness,  and  during  dicta- 
tion she  quite  frequently  indulged  in  such  con- 
tortions of  the  facial  features  as  to  cause  her  em 
ployer  to  feel  that  he  was  perhaps  somewhat  un- 
kind in  talking  to  her  until  she  had  become  so 
weary.  At  length,  quite  overcome,  she  threw 
her  hands  over  her  head  and  indulged  in  an  audi- 
ble "yawn"  that  told  the  story  of  her  anguish. 


HIS    LIFE   AND  TRIALS.  217. 

Her  employer  ceased  dictation,  and,  thinking  that 
a  little  medical  advice  might  be  preferable  to  any 
other  at  this  time,  said,  "For  that  tired  feeling 
take  some  of  Hood's  Sarsaparilla, "  all  of  which 
the  stenographer  proceeded  to  write  in  her  notes. 
You  may  well  imagine  his  feelings,  when  reading 
over  his  correspondence  and  finding  that  he  had 
given  such  advice  to  one  of  his  customers,  and 
had  it  not  been  for  the  circumstances  surround- 
ing the  case,  he  doubtless  would  have  insisted  that 
he  never  gave  vent  to  such  an  expression.  This 
stenographer  was  perhaps  accurate  and  thorough, 
but  she  was  lacking  in  that  judgment  which  should 
lend  dignity  to  her  position.  The  phonograph 
could  have  done  all  that  she  did,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  exhibiting  that  tired  feeling,  but  the  steno- 
grapher should  have  done  much  more.  By  the 
recital  of  this  occurrence  we  think  we  have  proven 
the  point  at  issue,  that  the  stenographer  is,  or  at 
least  should  be,  more  than  a  machine;  but,  if  he  is 
not,  he  can  only  be  so  considered. 

Every  rivulet  has  its  source,  but  unless  it  shall 
gradually  increase  in  volume  it  will  soon  become  a 
stagnant  pool,  rather  than  a  tributary  which  shall 
ultimately  reach  the  ocean.  The  standard  of  our 
profession  must  be  maintained  to  be  the  ocean  of 
thought  and  understanding  into  which  all  our 
efforts  flow,  and,  like  the  rivulets  as  they  wend  their 
way  to  the  ocean,  each  has  its  peculiarities,  and 
its  waters  may  be  distinguished  from  that  of  any 
other;  but  so  soon  as  it  reaches  the  great  reser- 


2l8.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

voir  individuality  is  lost.  So  we  all  form  a 
component  part  of  the  stenographic  world;  some 
of  usj  as  tributaries,  may  not  be  swelling  to  any 
large  extent  the  dignity  of  our  profession;  if  so, 
we  are  untrue  to  ourselves  and  guilty  of  retarding 
the  progress  of  others.  If  we  are  ever  permitted 
to  join  the  successful  throng,  it  shall  be  because 
we  have  reached  the  harbor  of  success,  and  not 
because  success  has  come  to  us. 

We  do  not  think  that  day  will  ever  come  when 
we  shall  be  able  to  adopt  a  standard  system  of 
shorthand,  for  there  are  already  too  many  divis- 
ions, the  borders  of  which  are  all  widening,  to 
permit  any  such  hopes  to  arise.  This,  however, 
isa  matter  of  secondary  importance,  as  there  is 
doubtless  not  a  system  extant  to-day,  but  what, 
if  properly  mastered,  together  with  such  inven- 
tions as  the  student  himself  will  adopt,  -will  meet 
all  the  requirements  of  the  profession.  The  ob- 
ject to  be  sought  is  not  so  much  a  uniting  of  the 
various  systems,  so  that  we  shall  all  think  and 
write  alike,  as  it  is  to  become  thorough  in  our  own 
way  of  thinking.  If  each  shorthand  student  had 
a  system  of  his  own,  he  would  be  master  of  it,  as 
no  one  else  could  be,  and  for  this  reason  the 
student  will  never  adhere  strictly  to  the  forms 
given  by  a  text-book  when  there  are  opportunities 
afforded  for  improvement.  The  ideas  grasped  by 
Pittman  and  others  were  not  beyond  improvemt, 
and,  to  adhere  strictly  to  them  in  order  that  we 
may  write  a  pure  system,  is  to  stunt  the  growth  of 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TRIALS.  219. 

our  own  individuality,  and  thus  retard  rather  than 
encourage  progressive  thought. 

The  phonograph  would  never  have  been  invent- 
ed had  the  mind  of  Edison  rested  contented  in 
the  thought  that  present  achievements  could  not 
be  surpassed.  All  the  agencies  of  nature  will  yet 
be  called  upon  to  exercise  their  powers,  but  even 
after  all  this  has  been  accomplished  we  are  satis- 
fied that  the  decree  of  the  Almighty  shall  not  be 
changed,  that  "Man  is  Lord  of  his  creations." 
Let  the  stenographer  be  as  studious  in  his  meth- 
ods as  the  inventor  possibly  can  be  in  his  search 
for  some  undiscovered  agency  yet  to  be  employed, 
and  there  will  yet  burst  in  upon  us  revelations 
more  astonishing  in  their  nature  than  the  peculiar 
operations  of  those  forces  with  which  we  are  now 
unfamiliar.  The  age  is  a  progressive  one;  the 
rays  of  light  shed  upon  the  mind  of  man  in  ages 
past  have  been  preserved  and  handed  down  to  us 
to-day,  and  with  all  this  light  streaming  from  be- 
hind us,  the  intelligence  of  to-day  increasing  the 
potency  of  its  rays,  the  prospects  of  the  future 
brighten,  and  we  fancy  we  see  emerging  the  com- 
ing man,  who'  will  be  a  type  of  the  fullness  of 
knowledge.  Ours  is  but  a  minor  branch  which 
may  contribute  some  light  to  the  dawning  day, 
and  may  it  be  so  inviting  and  inspiring  in  its 
nature  that,  while  the  inventor  lives  upon  the 
threshold  of  to-morrow,  we  shall  not  be  found  rock- 
ing ourselves  to  sleep  in  the  shades  of  yesterday, 
wherein  our  ancestors  passed  away.  We  have  no 


220.  THE    STENOGRAPHER 

fault  to  find  with  the  individual  who  dares  to  lift 
the  curtain  which  surrounds  futurity  and  prepare 
for  coming  events.  If  the  fruits  of  his  labors 
bring  to  him  wealth,  I  know  of  none  more  worthy 
to  be  thus  honored,  and  feel  to  admire  that  law 
which  has  been  established,  that,  "The  laborer  is 
worthy  of  his  hire,"  and  "The  idler  shall  not  eat 
the  bread  of  the  laborer." 

Let  us  not  indulge  in  fond  dreams  of  what  the 
future  stenographer  may  be,  but  let  us  always 
make  the  present  superior  to  the  past.  We  can- 
not afford  to  find  fault  with  others  because  they 
nave  converted  their  log  cabin  into  a  palatial  resi- 
dence, for  the  same  opportunities  are  afforded  us. 
The  momentum  of  a  body  will  always  tend  to  ac- 
celerate its  present  movements,  and  with  an 
equal  force  applied,  stimulating  the  effects  of  the 
past,  we  are  satisfied  that  "THE  STENOGRAPHER" 
will  be  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  important  fac- 
tors entering  into  the  improvement  of  our  com- 
mercial, educational  and  professional  interests. 
When  you  have  read  "THE  STENOGRAPHER"  and 
become  more  thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  life 
and  trials,  let  it  be  handed  down  to  posterity  with 
your  benediction,  forgetting  the  author  whose  ex- 
periences have  been  so  much  like  yours. 


THE 


ARE  THE  SOLE  OWNERS  OF 

TH6  New  and  Attractive  Publication, 

ENTITLED, 

'The  Stenographer," 

Which  can  only  be  secured  through  them 

or  their  authorized  agents.     Those 

who  may  wish  the  book  can 

procure  it  by  sending 

to  us  the  price 

of   same, 

^  1.S5, 

And    it  will   be  promptly  forwarded   to   any 
address  in  the  United  States. 


We  want  Stenographers  in  Every  Large  City  to 
Act  as  our  Agents. 

QUICK  SALES  AND  LARGE  PROFITS. 


Write  us  for  Full  Particulars. 

THE  STENOGRflPHIG  BOOK  60., 

2510  Garrison  Ave.  ST.  LOUIS,  MO. 


I    I  DO     UUU»O     0 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  634  747     o 


auvo  >iooa  SIHJ, 

3AOW3U  ION  00  3S\/31d 


